


Chewing on Glass

by demonsweat



Category: Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles - All Media Types
Genre: Action, Angst, Ass-Kicking, Explicit Language, Family, Gen, Humor, Hurt/Comfort, Originally Posted on FanFiction.Net, Originally Posted on deviantART, Science Fiction
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-21
Updated: 2014-08-24
Packaged: 2018-02-13 21:46:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 7
Words: 59,926
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2166339
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/demonsweat/pseuds/demonsweat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The city was a warzone. Military fought the invading monsters, gangs fought each other, and we struggled against them all. I was not afraid. As long as my brothers fought by my side, I knew we would prevail. I never thought the day would come, when I would have to face these trials without them; when I, Hamato Leonardo, would be forced to stand alone.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: The TMNT and TMNT universe are copyright Nickelodeon and Viacom Entertainment, based on characters created by Kevin Eastman and Peter Laird. This story is non-profit and free to the fans.
> 
> A/N: This was another Secret Santa challenge I did for deviantArt user [Ensodancer](http://ensodancer.deviantart.com/). Enso wanted to see Leo showing some brotherly love towards his siblings, but if you know me, you know I had to drag 'em through hell first. So this ended up being a rescue mission, with Leo in the hot seat. Enjoy!

 

Prologue

They say you don’t know what you’ve got until it’s gone, but I never found truth in that. For instance, I have always appreciated the hard work and study it’s takes to become a ninja. I’ve trained most of my nineteen years in the mastery of ninjutsu; the majority of those in the many forms and techniques of combat, a decade or more devoted to the arts of stealth and strategy, two years in mastering meditative alteration of consciousness, and I spent a single (awful) summer ingesting small doses of various poisons in an attempt to build immunity. Despite its obvious ups and downs, I have always felt that this was not only the right path, but have always considered myself fortunate to have been raised by such a skilled teacher; “born” into a family that celebrated these types of things. I’ve given my life to training with them, against them, and ultimately for them. Years of dedicated study and perseverance have made me into the skilled warrior I am today. However, there is another thing I’ve always held fast to, instinctually, organically; something a part of me as much as any of my limbs, though if I had to choose I’d sooner cut off the limb. This is a thing I was never taught, and in truth my master chose me to lead our clan in part because of it. He saw in me, even at a young age, a sense that I alone exhibited: that no matter the circumstances, I always put my brothers first.

I have never once taken them for granted, and I have never assumed that life would be the same without even a single one of them in it. So when they disappeared, I didn’t think. I moved forward, prepared, because I knew this. I knew it, because it had been my single worst nightmare for as long as I could remember. 

My name is Hamato Leonardo, and I have never valued anything more than family. Let me tell you a story …

**\----------------------------------**

Chapter 1

This was the single worst moment of my life. I knew this, even as it was happening.

I put my hand on the mechanism that powers the first of a double set of doors leading to our lair, and there I paused, frozen, the knowledge of what I was about to do finally sinking in. Even though my head was pounding, even though I was minutes away from blacking out, I hesitated. I came for a purpose, to do this in person rather than call. It just hadn’t felt real until right then, and when my fingers touched the fake stone Donatello had crafted over the switch, making it indistinguishable from the surrounding wall--that’s when it hit me. This was really happening. It had already happened. And I was going to have to face Splinter and tell him.

I had come home alone.

It was late, and Sensei was asleep. I tapped firmly on the sliding door, rattling the paper between dividers. “Master Splinter? Come quickly … something’s happened!”

I heard him moving immediately. Seconds later the door pulled back and there stood my father, looking worried, outlined in the glow of a single bedside candle. “Leonardo. What is it, my son?”

“I-I’m …” I was what? Sorry? The word didn’t even begin to describe how I felt. My chest was made of lead; I couldn’t speak, I couldn’t even find the breath to speak. I stalled, unable to express the utter defeat I felt, unwilling to admit to my father, my sensei, that this day had come. I fell to my knees in shame, still cradling the arm I’d twisted, still squinting at the blood that had trickled into my left eye. “Sensei, I failed you. I lost them … all three of them.”

He grabbed my chin, pulling my face upwards to meet his. “They have perished?”

I stared at him wildly, trying to choke back my emotions, my voice cracking. “I-I don’t know. There was an explosion … I looked but I c-couldn’t find them …”

Splinter relaxed and bowed his head, gathering himself. He grabbed me by the shoulders then and pulled me in, embracing me. “Then they may yet be alive. Come.” He helped me stand. “I will treat your wounds and you may start at the beginning.”

**\----------------------------------**

To really start at the beginning, I have to go back six months, back to when the invasion began. If it hadn’t been for that, the city wouldn’t have turned into a warzone, and we wouldn’t have been in that warehouse in the first place. The Zetas had been moving some big artillery in and selling it to the Purple Dragons, who had no business with such weaponry, except to add to the chaos. I didn’t believe for a second that they were arming themselves to help fight the real threat; rather they were trying to increase their standing in a grab for power amongst the other gangs. So while the criminals of the city fought each other, scrambling to get to the top of their twisted food chain, we were left fighting the bloodthirsty monsters which somehow kept pouring up from the tunnels below, decimating everything in their path. 

It was New Year’s Eve, when aliens invaded New York City. There was no warning. My brothers and I were huddled on a rooftop near Time’s Square, thanks to Mike, who dragged us out into the freezing cold every year in order to watch the ball drop. That year, the countdown never made it. 

“’The hell is that?” 

It was Raph who saw them first. I looked up, following his line of sight, and saw a few large dots moving in the sky. For the first couple of minutes we just watched, not really sensing danger, but wondering instead if it was a part of the show. Every year it seemed like the holiday’s festivities were trying to top the last, and I admit I don’t really keep up the latest in special effects. It wasn’t until the ships came into view that I started to get a bad feeling, and when I looked around at my brothers, I could see the same look across all their faces.

The murmur of the crowds below escalated until the first ship fired, and then it became mass hysteria. We ducked into the shadows of a rooftop garden.

“Guys, what are we gonna do?” Mike said.

They all looked at me. Before I could answer, a blast rocked the side of the building we were on, shaking it on its foundation. It was enough to make my decision for me. “Just go, get to the sewers!” I shouted, and we went, trying to stay out of sight as we retreated to cover. The streets were filled with people, but it was dark and we were clothed for the weather, so it wasn’t difficult to slip away in the chaos. We made it home without incident, where we called our friends and stayed glued to the TV for the next forty-eight hours. Absolutely everything changed in that time. We watched as poorly-shot videos streamed in, showing three large UFOs opening their doors to release the nightmarish, insect-like abominations that would tear the city to shreds over the next six months. Even as it was happening, we could hardly believe it. Even months into fighting them, it didn’t seem real.

My brother Donatello was suspicious from the start. “Why here?” he kept asking. “Why not invade DC?” No one knew. The talking heads tossed around theories, but reports from the front lines were spotty and full of misinformation. Were the invaders looking for something in particular, or was this a message? New York was a hub of American culture, perhaps they sought to weaken our resolve before launching a bigger attack. I could see that. It was a common tactic in war, to demoralize your opponent. Regardless, the “why” of it didn’t matter, not when we had bigger worries. While martial law was being established and the military was moving in on all sides, local law enforcement did its best to stand up to the first attacks. Though they were outnumbered, they continued to fight even as the situation escalated. Armed citizens banded together as small, private militias. And of course, my brothers and I were on their side, though they never knew it. We tried our best to push them back. In the beginning, it seemed like we had a chance.

People tried to flee the city all at once. Riots broke out. It was complete anarchy. One of our first priorities was getting our friends, April and Casey, to the lair before too much of the violence reached them. They stayed with us for a few weeks before we escorted them through the tunnels to the north, where Casey “borrowed” a car to take them the rest of the way to Northampton. We considered joining them, but in the end decided that we couldn’t turn our backs on the situation. There was no doubt that we were out of our league with this one, but we weren’t ready to give up on our home. 

The weeks became months, the weather became warmer, and the city changed. We hit the bugs (as we started calling them, and you can imagine how thrilled Raphael was about it) at every opportunity, pulling the wings off of every one we could, though in the literal sense, not all of them could fly. In one fight we were attacked by long, worm-like creatures with mouthfuls of sharp, needlelike teeth. They were surprisingly fast and agile. I think every one of us was bitten at some point, Mikey the worst, and I remember him complaining nonstop about the welts itching for days after. Another fight saw us facing small, Frisbee-sized ants. At first they didn’t seem like much, but their strength was in numbers. They poured from the sewers in an unending wave, their pincers cutting us to ribbons. In that one, we barely made it to higher ground before we were overrun. We found it strange how much the invaders varied in size and shape. Some were even humanoid, or sported humanlike features and attributes. Those versions were always stronger and more organized it seemed, and we found ourselves retreating more often when they entered the fray. (Oh and for the record–-all things considered, Raphael did pretty good. I only saw him lose composure once, when we faced the Spidermen in Gramercy. It was a messy battle and Raphael, covered in spider guts, tossed his lunch in the corner when he didn’t think I was looking. I kept it to myself. For a guy with an insect phobia, he was maintaining much better than I ever would have imagined.)

Aside from the obvious threat, there was another element to the invasion which we hadn’t foreseen. The looting and increase in crime I expected. What I didn’t expect was the organization. When the invasion began, the gangs of New York City went one of two ways: either they disbanded and left, scared off by the monstrosities, or they saw opportunity in that very same thing. Alliances were made between the factions, and soon we found ourselves battling our old enemies alongside new. The bugs would align with no one, though. The invaders had one agenda, and that was only to destroy. They would spill from underground points in droves, a mindless, aggressive force, wiping out everything in their path under a wave of animalistic destruction. There was no way to reason or communicate with them. I didn’t even think there was communication _between_ them; at first I was convinced that they must be very primitive. These couldn’t be the same beings responsible for building and operating the spaceships they’d arrived in, and so it stood to reason that there must others, more intelligent, pulling the strings. It was Donatello who educated me, as he often does, on the more subtle ways insects exchange information. Sound, smell--even species here on Earth were known to have very complex and sophisticated ways of “talking” to each other, ways we were yet to fully understand. Who knew what this alien race was capable of. We knew nothing of them.

It was impossible to know what the invaders’ intentions were; why they were here or what they wanted. Our old enemies though--there was never any question. And unfortunately, the lives of my family were still high on their list. Even with the military battling it out with an alien race right here on our streets, old vendettas still held true. 

**\----------------------------------**

I woke up in the lair, Splinter by my bedside. Right away it all came back, and I realized what must have happened. I’d finally lost my fight with consciousness.

“How long was I out?” I was in a panic. 

“Easy, my son. It has been two hours.” He lowered his head. “I have not been able to contact any of your brothers.”

I barely heard him. I bolted from the cot, one of several in the infirmary off of Donatello’s lab, giving a quick glance to my wounds, dressed now in clean bandages. My hand went to my chest on instinct, looking for the strap that held my swords. I scanned the room, crazed, finding them against the wall nearby and made for them. “Master Splinter, there’s no time to lose,” I told him, strapping my weapons on. “We have to go after them, we have to find them!”

He stood. “My son, please. You must first tell me what’s happened! You are injured, and it is no longer safe to travel outside our home, even with one’s wits about him. You must rest. I will go, I will search for your brothers.”

“No,” I said, a bit too firm. I wasn’t accustomed to using that tone of voice with my master, and it surprised the both of us. I pulled the leather through with a snap, securing my swords. “We go together. I’ll fill you in on the way.”

**\----------------------------------**

After a routine raid on one of the many abandoned establishments the Purple Dragons were now squatting in, Mike and Raph got a tip that there was a big arms shipment coming in from Honduras. It was all supposed to go down in the Meatpacking District that night between the Zetas and the Dragons. Though I was skeptical about the source of this information, when we got there, everything seemed as it should be. From inside a nearby building, we watched the trucks pull in and opted to wait for a little while, just to assess. Donnie and I were doing most of the assessing though, which was normal, while the “brawn-over-brains” part of our outfit occupied themselves farther down the catwalk. Mike was going on about some TV show or game, I wasn’t really sure. I watched the two of them joke around for a few minutes. Mike was getting a little loud, but I let it go. He was keeping Raph happy, and besides, no one knew we were there. 

“Donnie?” I asked. “What’ve you got?”

He squinted through his goggles. “Pretty light on security. We’ve got a few milling around the entrance to the building, where the trucks came in,” he said. “I picked up two more at the end of the driveway though, watching the entrance.”

I turned and gave my orders. “Raph, Mike. Go take out the guards at the end of the street and meet back here.”

“On it, boss,” Mikey said, and they left, dropping down from the catwalk and heading out without a sound. 

I wiped at the dirty glass with my arm and took a closer look but I stayed low, just in case. Don was right. I could pick out the men walking back and forth on the ground. “You sure that’s all?” I asked him. “Based on what Mike and Raph said, I expected this to be a bigger operation. What about inside?”

He lowered the thermal goggles and gave me a testy look. “Well I can’t exactly see through walls, Leo. There’s probably more inside guarding the shipment, but I doubt it’s too many. There’s only two vehicles present.” He sighed, bringing the goggles back up again. “It hardly matters, we can’t make a move until the last guests arrive, and I haven’t seen a Dragon ye-wait! Hold that thought.” He reached up, twisting the dials on his goggles like a madman. “That’s them! I’ve got a car and a van … looks like three coming from the car, packing small, probably glocks … van has four bodies--wait, make that five. Similar getup, but I see two MGs, about the size of uzis.”

I nodded, taking it all in. Guns were always a concern, but this was good news. Uzi’s were notoriously inaccurate, and in the dark they wouldn’t have the advantage over us anyways. The plan was to cut the power and take them all out as fast as possible. Don had already rigged a small explosive onto the main breaker for the building and was ready to turn out the lights at the push of a button. But first we had to get inside. Raph and Mike returned without incident, and I thought things were going smooth. I didn’t want to wait any longer. We left our lookout and started moving in. There was even a perfect entry point; a large, broken window high up with access to the catwalks and rafters, the interior of which just happened to be completely shrouded in darkness. Too perfect, as it turned out. Had I just stopped to investigate … it was only thinking back when I realized I stepped over broken glass, a clear sign that the window had been busted recently, and from the inside out. How could I have missed that? After all of Master Splinter’s teachings, after he’d warned me time and time again not to fall victim to one of the most common mistakes in what we do, I still let overconfidence cloud my thinking. For wasn’t a ninja’s greatest enemy, himself?

I should have noticed the glass. I should have known that two guards was too light on security for what they were guarding. I should have realized that the thugs Mike and Raph had squeezed information out of would talk. I did, but I severely underestimated them. I just thought they’d increase their numbers, and that we would deal with it. I thought we were prepared. I never could have guessed that it was a set-up from the start. 

I should have realized it was a trap.

**\----------------------------------**

I remember getting inside. I remember looking down on the scene below and wondering why there were so few men there. It seemed strange that the others hadn’t come in from outside yet. I held up my hand, signaling my brothers to hold position while I tried to figure out what was going on. It was the last thought I had before the ear-shattering bang; and then I was thrown forward, falling, the walls coming down on top of me. I landed badly, felt debris rain down on top of me, and then it all went dark.

I woke sometime later, dazed, not thinking clearly. I’d sustained (what didn’t realize then) a significant hit to the head, amongst other small, insignificant injuries. I remember the headache and the blood running down my face, but I was hardly aware of it. When I came around, my own health was the last thing I was concerned with. 

I crawled out from underneath a section of metal sheeting that had come loose from the wall. As I started to piece together what I was seeing--the building caved in at one corner, the catwalk we’d been standing on a twisted, gnarled mess--I started to panic, calling out my brothers’ names and shoving junk aside. That’s when I heard voices and saw the lights from outside. I didn’t think, I just pushed into the shadows on instinct, watching and listening. More trucks started to arrive and I had to make a decision. I couldn’t see any sign of my brothers. Maybe they’d already gotten out? Maybe they were okay. The voices were getting closer. I slipped around to the opposite end of the warehouse and hid between the stacks of empty crates, away from the damage and away from the men investigating it. There wasn’t much I could do but watch. Several men were there, looking over the damage and talking to each other. I was in shock, unsteady on my feet and I could feel myself starting to black out. I fought it. I had to hear what they were saying.

“… van outside?”

“Probably deal gone bad … IEDs, looks like military grade …”

“… friggin’ black market … tellin’ ya, it’s outta control …”

They were carrying heavy guns and dressed in camouflage, but not uniformly. These looked like local militia to me, not official military. For reasons we didn’t know, it was rare to see actual soldiers here inside the fire zone, which included all of Manhattan, a good portion of Brooklyn and about half of Queens. The military kept the borders locked down though. Jersey was inadmissible, even for us and our subterranean pathways. Strangely, it almost seemed as if they were trying to keep the bugs contained here, while doing nothing to actually stop them. 

They began sifting through the rubble. My chest seized. What if they found my brothers? One of them could be lying unconscious in there, like I was. They’d think we were aliens and shoot on sight. I pulled one sword, sloppily, just in case I had to intervene. I tried to watch from between the layers of dusty canvas, sheets of it draped over the wooden crates I was pushed up against. My head was pounding so bad that I was seeing double. Again, I fought it with everything I had. The men searched through for a while, still talking to one another, but I couldn’t hear what was being said. After a while they seemed satisfied and regrouped near the entrance. One of them broke away and moved closer to where I was hidden. When he’d put enough distance between himself and the others, he pulled a radio and began speaking into it.

“Dispatch, this is unit seven-oh-four, Alpha Squad, reporting in on that explosion.”

_“Copy that, Seven-oh-four Alpha, what’s your report.”_

“No sign of bugs, looks like the locals setting off fireworks again.”

_“Alpha, did you search for casualties?”_

“We did, none to report. We saw blood, but whoever’s leaking must’ve walked outta here. Found some weird stuff though … ninja stars, nunchucks. Some kinda pointy, pronged weapons.”

 _“Goddamn gook gangs.”_

The soldier laughed. “Yep, same as before. Got a bag full of grenades too, looks homemade. What I wouldn’t pay to watch ‘em go head to head with the webslingers. Do us all a favor, ya know?” The grenades, that would be Donatello’s bag of tricks. I didn’t hear mention of phones, but I wasn’t worried. Don designed them to be untraceable in such an event. I couldn’t explain it like he could (not that we’d understand the explanation, probably) but from what I gathered, anyone trying to crack into them would cause an automatic memory wipe to occur. I didn’t care about any of that though, because it all paled in comparison to why I was here listening in the first place: _no bugs, no casualties._ They found my brothers’ gear, but not their bodies. Relief washed over me in a downpour. It was so overwhelming I had to steady myself against the crates. The feeling didn’t last. I frowned, looking over the scene. So if they weren’t here, where the hell were they? No bodies didn’t mean living bodies somewhere else. I didn’t want to run with those thoughts, but just looking at the destruction to the catwalk and surrounding area was enough to plant the seed. I just hoped that whoever pulled my brothers from the mess of metal, concrete and glass had pulled them out still breathing. The human standing close to me spoke again, but I was fading fast and couldn’t focus on everything he said. 

“… repeat, no bugs at scene, we are clearing out … dispatch … keep lookout … black van, painting of a giant snake or something on the side …”

I snapped back to attention at that. A van, with a … no, not a giant snake. A Chinese dragon. It was the same one Don and I had watched pull in from across the street. He was calling it in, so they must’ve seen it leaving the scene. I made a mental note of it. I was fighting to stay upright but luckily they left soon after that, and I was able to resume my own search, which mostly amounted to me yelling my brothers names until my throat hurt. I hauled brick and tossed aside wood, I cut myself on jagged bits of metal and glass, digging through the mess to find anything, any sign of them. But of course there was nothing, except the small pile of weapons the men had picked out and tossed to one side. The militiamen had already upturned everything, and I had a feeling they weren’t the first to do so. At a loss, I headed for home to my father, who I always sought out when I needed guidance.

**\----------------------------------**

Splinter didn’t have much to say after I told my story. After laying out all the facts, we agreed that there only one conclusion: my brothers, one or more, had been taken by the Purple Dragons. However, it was still possible that not _all_ of them were taken. One of them could be hurt, hiding out, unable to contact us. Or he could be on his way home. Or … they could still be buried beneath the wreckage. I’d watched the soldiers search, I’d searched myself--but there were still pockets of debris, too heavy to move with our hands. What if one of them was lying crushed beneath all of it? My heart lurched at the thought. There were so many unknowns. That was the worst part, being unsure of what direction to go in. One misstep could mean life or death and I could hardly bear the weight of it. What if we didn’t find them? What if they were waiting for rescue, while we wasted time debating, looking for clues? They could be anywhere. 

No. I closed my eyes and centered myself. When I opened them again, it was with resolve. I was going to find them. I swore it then, in my heart. I would not rest until I found my brothers and brought them all home. 

Splinter and I went back to the scene, to approach it all with a clearer head, though despite what I'd told him, mine was still a little fuzzy. Still, I don’t know if it was the short nap I’d taken, or the fact that the initial shock had worn off, but I had a much firmer grasp on things than I’d had hours before. I approached it like a detective, remembering Sensei’s teachings in hunting and tracking. In the end, we didn’t turn up any dead bodies (much to our immense relief), but we didn’t turn up any live ones either. There were signs, however. Tracks in the dirt, footsteps (sneakered shoes, not combat boot) leading out and most damning--lines in the dirt, spattered with blood, as if someone had been dragged. The question of who--whether the Dragons were pulling their own injured out of the blast, or dragging my stunned or unconscious brothers into their van--I couldn’t tell, but there was no denying that they weren’t here. It was now several hours without contact and we had to assume they’d been taken. And while the fact that we’d found no bodies should’ve put my mind at ease, it only opened the door to more worrying questions. What would the Dragons do with them? I didn’t think our beef with the gang would extend so far that they’d target us for anything but monetary gain. Concepts like honor and revenge didn’t come in to play with the non-ninja clans quite as much. Most likely they’d auction my brothers off to the highest bidder, and I knew of at least one enemy with a big enough wallet to “foot” the bill, so to speak.

With the trail cold, we needed a lead. It was time to “shake down the local criminal element,” as Raphael would have said. Considering recent events, I had a feeling that that was going to prove to be more tricky than usual. 

**\----------------------------------**

After much convincing, Splinter finally accepted that I was lucid enough to conduct the rest of the search that evening on my own. He headed back to the lair, just in case one of them did come home and was in need of help. Given the size of the blast and taking note of my own condition, it was likely that the three of them were also suffering some sort of injury and I didn’t want the lair to be empty if that was the case. The night was almost gone however; daybreak was only hours away and I wasn’t hopeful. I headed towards the Lower East Side, Dragon territory, to case some of their known hangouts, but all was quiet. What few establishments there were left operating weren’t exactly doing so at this hour. I found no sign of the van. Exhausted and heartbroken, I slipped back underground at the first hint of light. Splinter greeted me when I arrived. He tried his best to hide his disappointment as I gave my report, which of course only made it worse. I opted to sleep just a few hours while I waited for the world above to wake and go on with its business. It was not a restful sleep.

When I awoke I first wandered into Don’s lab to see if I could find anything useful. As if I’d know where to start. It was no secret that my brother was a brilliant strategist and engineer, but one look at his living space only screamed “mad scientist.” There were books stacked, toppling, and in some cases, fallen into a heap. Electronic bits and pieces scattered every surface. Peg boards, notepads and dry-erase boards covered the walls, covered themselves with scribbled bits of indecipherable notes and equations. In a few places, I saw where he’d actually gone off the board and kept writing onto the wall. Bits and pieces of mechanical devices. Coffee cups. Multiple computers. Junk everywhere, not that I’d call it that to his face. Doing so would only get me one of Don’s patented long-winded explanations on the purpose and importance of each thing in there. Looking around, I realized we were going to have to have another (quiet) discussion about creating such an appealing habitat for rodents. 

I sat down at his desk and tapped on one of the keyboards there. A screen lit up and asked for a password. Figured. With the amount of times Mike’s tried to snoop around in here, I guess that shouldn’t have come as a surprise. I slumped back into the chair and swung it around. There were blueprints and maps tacked to one wall, over the top of what strangely enough looked like a short, metal turtle. There were wires sticking out and parts missing, but I could still make it out. And that’s when I realized Don had been building a turtle-shaped robot in his spare time. Maybe mad scientist wasn’t all that far off the mark after all.

I stood up to get a closer look at the maps. A low hum came from the mini-fridge close by, but you wouldn’t find it stocked with sodas. I started to think about the last time Don reached in and pulled out one of his test tubes, showing me his latest discovery.

_“It doesn’t make sense,” he kept saying. “I detected various insect and human DNA. There’s nothing foreign here.”_

_I leaned back against the wall and crossed my arms. He’d called me in because he’d finished looking over the alien tissue samples. We were fourteen weeks into the invasion, Casey and April had already fled for Northampton, and my brothers and I were a small force against a never-ending hoard of monsters._

_“So what does it mean?” I asked._

_He shook his head slightly and continued talking as if he hadn’t heard me. “I can’t rule out other possibilities. Could there be another planet, sharing similar characteristics of Earth? Are we dealing with something in the realm of quantum theory? A multiverse, a time travel situation? Any attempt to explain this sounds crazy.” He sat back in the chair and frowned at me. “I don’t think we’re looking at any of those possibilities though.”_

_He was evading the question. Which meant I wasn’t going to like this answer. I asked him again. “Donnie. What-do-you-think-it-means?”_

_He looked me straight in the eye. “Leo, I don’t think they’re aliens at all. I think they’re mutants.”_

_Mutants? Don’s theory didn’t exactly make more sense, at least to me. Why would mutants be taking over New York? We watched them come in on ships with our own eyes. Were they created on some other planet using our DNA, or was the entire thing a farce? No demands had been made, no communication attempted. We didn’t know who they were, what they wanted, or why they were attacking us._

_Don had theories. He always has theories, but well … one of them is usually always right. “I think it’s in-house,” he said. “Tensions are boiling across the globe, war is brewing. Elections are coming up.” I grimaced and he tried to explain. “Look, I know how it sounds. We’re edging into conspiracy theory here. It’s just … the alien invasion thing looks weak to me. I mean, just look at the size of these ships,” he said, going to the computer. “Limited space. It’s been months! We alone have taken out enough to fill a single ship.” He clicked around, pulling up files. I sighed, having seen it all before. We knew they were multiplying somehow. He wasn’t wrong, I just wasn’t sure if I was ready to buy the fact that someone had orchestrated this whole thing. Or, well … not someone. I knew who he was talking about._

_He turned his palms up and looked at me for a long second, before he said, “Current intel suggests that Bishop’s been connected to some operation up north.” He crossed his arms. “Something big. And now, coincidentally, we’ve got “aliens,” which are really mutants, running around? You know, when too many of the plugs start fitting into too many of the ports …”_

_“Okay, I hear you.” I added, “I also heard ‘current intel.’”_

_Don looked caught. I praised my brother on his data mining abilities, but I often questioned the red herrings he sometimes followed. He was still new to the whole espionage game and smart or no, it was often difficult to know who, or what info, to trust. “My sources are sound!” he tried to explain. “This time. Ahm ... anyways. I can’t prove it yet, but this whole thing reeks of his involvement. And,” he continued, pulling up more documents on his computer, “he’s been spotted inside the northern blockade. Right around this area.” He tapped the screen over the top of the West Bronx. The Hot Spot. I knew it well. The highest concentration of alien (or mutant, if Donnie was to be believed) activity was centered in that area, for some reason. A massive ground war had been fought on all sides of it, until the military had set up the northern blockade. So far it had held, barely, keeping the bugs quarantined to mostly Manhattan, though fighting had spilled out into every other borough and was spreading farther by the day._

_“Assume they are aliens for a second,” I suggested. “Wouldn’t that draw Bishop here? It is sort of his area of expertise.”_

_“Sure,” he agreed. “But that doesn’t explain what he’s been up to out here.” He stood, going to a large map pinned to the wall. He pointed to a large red pin stuck into it, a little north of Albany. “There’s a government facility located right here, but you won’t find mention of it on any official documents. Very mysterious.” He slid his finger from the red pin south, to a series of pins centered around the Hot Spot. “And now he’s put himself at the heart of it. Call it a hunch,” he said with a shrug, “but I’m almost sure he has more to do with this than it seems. Either way, one thing’s for sure, Leo--the bugs are multiplying, and there’s no question that they’re doing so from here.”_

_I had my next question ready, though I was sure I wouldn’t like the answer to this one either. “Any idea how they’re doing that?”_

_“Well … based on what we know of the infected, the gestation period for some of these … I’m going to call them mutants until I’m convinced otherwise--is remarkably short.” He slid back into his computer chair and swung it around in a single motion, in the way one does when one’s done something countless times. He tapped at the keyboard again, showing me the data. “I’ve taken a wide variety of samples and I’ve found traces of countless species of insect. When you consider the capabilities of some of the more fertile Ectognatha, the numbers are staggering.”_

_Infected. The word made my skin crawl. Some people who’d escaped the city were found to have been carrying parasites, leading to the forced quarantine. Everything was shut down. Humans trying to escape the city were first herded into makeshift clinics and forced to wait weeks for a clean bill of health. Needless to say it was a slow process, and the routes in and out of the city became fewer as time went on. The Holland Tunnel was actually in ruins, after a massive firefight ended in them bombing the structure just to keep the hoard of insects at bay. Several other bridges were in the same state. Those that remained were barricaded and barriers were set all along the outer banks, ensuring that nothing would cross the water. Thanks to the infected, even if one was brave enough to journey to the borders, it was likely they’d be turned away. It made me thankful that we were able to get our friends to safety at all, especially considering that there were even bugs in the tunnels, meaning we also had to be much more cautious when moving around in general. We however, knew the underground better than anyone and could still find ways around (though they were usually less than convenient). Unfortunately for the citizens trapped here there was no escape, and the quarantine was a Band-Aid at best. Central Manhattan was getting worse by the day and if we couldn’t figure out how to keep their numbers from increasing, then it was only a matter of time before the blockades would fail._

_“So you think they’re just breeding, laying a bunch of eggs underground?” I asked. He shrugged, seeming like it was the best he had. If that was the case, I shuddered to think what was down there, laying them. And I was right … I really didn’t like his answer._

I looked over the map again. There was the Hot Spot, the blockades and sure enough--the red pin was still there, though whether Don was right about Bishop I didn’t know. It hardly mattered now. The invasion was the last thing on my mind. Still, the memory of our talk only reminded me of what an excellent strategist Don was himself, and what a great team he and I made when it came to planning attacks. It hit me suddenly. This was going to be a lot harder without him. Without any of them, really. Even if I had one of them here, it would give me greater advantage in finding the others. But they weren’t. I was alone in this. 

I reached out and absent-mindedly touched a dry-erase board he had on the wall, wiping through a mathematical symbol there. I stared at my fingers where they’d come away black from the marker and rubbed them together against my thumb, mesmerized by it. What would happen, if I couldn’t find them? Maybe one or two would find their way home eventually. Maybe not. I looked around Don’s lab, my heart sinking. Everything would stay the way it was in this room, just the way it looked now. In all of their rooms. The lair would never lose the eerie quiet that surrounded Splinter and I now. And Splinter … I feared that if I failed in this, the most important of my duties, he would never forgive me. 

I had to find them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For those of you not familiar, "Let me tell you a story ..." is a reference to Mirage's Tales of the TMNT. Many issues ended the first page, or frontispiece, with that phrase when narrated from the POV of a single character. Also, bonus Metalhead cameo. :) 
> 
> (Author [sleepingseeker](http://archiveofourown.org/users/sleepingseeker/) felt so inspired by my line about Leo ingesting poisons, she wrote up a neat little drabble on it. You can read it [here.](https://www.fanfiction.net/s/9982645/5/Drabbles-and-Short-Pieces))


	2. Chapter 2

Five days. Five long days Splinter and I searched, day and night, barely sleeping or eating. Barely functioning. By the fifth day, I was on autopilot. Splinter insisted that I take some time to rest but I wouldn’t listen. I had to keep pushing. Besides, sleep was no friend of mine. When I did shut my eyes, I saw my brothers, but I also saw images of pain, fear … and death. I could not decipher whether these were visions, or just my overtired mind turning on me. It didn’t matter. Nothing mattered but the task at hand. 

By day six I was losing hope. I’d been stalking Dragons, ambushing them, questioning them; but if anyone knew anything, they weren’t talking. Still, I knew word was getting out. It was obvious in how their behaviors changed. They started moving more cautiously, looking agitated, waiting for me. That was good. The more scared they were, the more they would talk amongst themselves and that made it more likely one of them would catch wind of where my brothers might be. I had to be patient. At least, that’s what I told myself. I certainly didn’t feel patient. I felt enraged. Desperate. Lost. It was difficult not to lose control, and I found myself thinking of Raphael often. If this was the sort of thing going on in Raph’s head most of the time, then perhaps I wasn’t giving him enough credit. It reminded me of something he said once.

_“’S’like chewin’ on glass,” he said. We were sitting on a water tower near the East Village, watching the kids with funny-colored hair come and go, observing their rituals of bar-hopping and socializing on a Saturday night. I’d caught up with him after another blowout between us and now Raph, more subdued, was doing his thing, bitterly waxing poetic about life. Or as Mikey liked to say, “playing emo,” though I doubt he would have said so to Raph’s face._

_“Chewing on glass?” I asked. I wasn’t familiar with the expression._

_“Yep.” He dug one prong of his sai into the wood of the tower, playing with it. “Ya chomp and chomp … and ya might break a few pieces. But you’re really just tearin’ up your gums in the process. You know it’s stupid, but you just keep doin’ it, ‘cause you don’t know any other way.”_

I don’t remember what we fought about initially, but I worried whenever he would get like that. Raphael was impulsive, he was self-destructive--but the most frustrating thing about him was that he just accepted it, like he didn’t think there was any hope for him. I never understood why he didn’t strive to overcome those demons better. But perhaps that’s where I was naive. I’d always assumed that Raph didn’t care enough to get himself under control; that essentially he wasn’t trying hard enough. But as the years went on and I watched him struggle to come to grips with who we were and the dangers we faced, I started to see more of the truth. It wasn’t that Raph didn’t try, it was that I didn’t realize how intense those demons really were. Neither did he, I think.

I missed him. I hoped he was being careful, wherever he was. If he was still with the other two, I knew he’d try and protect them as best he could. Raphael, for all of his problems, possessed a loyalty unmatched. I knew if it came down to it, he would sacrifice himself in an instant for us. It was for that reason, that I worried for him the most. 

I cleared these thoughts. Night was approaching and I had to get my head on straight. Daytime movement was more difficult these days, but not impossible. I couldn’t get too close to the streets, but I could observe the Dragons’ movements from a distance, at least until there were more shadows to duck into. Even up high, I had to stay under cover. There were winged beasts and military drones in the skies now and it wasn’t safe to be exposed on the rooftops anymore. Entire buildings were covered in sticky, white webs--another thing to avoid (and with wide berth). Without my team I was in much more danger out here and it paid to be cautious. For the past few hours I’d been perched on an ivy-covered brownstone, hidden in the shadows of a covered rooftop patio, watching the buildings across the street. There was a dingy bar still in business there, and as night fell, Dragons began to enter into it. 

Another hour and I was ready. I stood and moved a few buildings down, watching the end of the street. I didn’t have to wait long. Soon a group of them, seven total, came strolling out into the open, heading towards the bar. Awfully cocky of them, with the infestation going on. I wasn’t really surprised. If there was anything Dragons were known for, using their heads wasn’t one of them. They paused near an alley, talking and passing around a pipe. I listened a moment but didn’t hear anything of interest. It was time to change that. 

I dropped down into the alley without a sound and crept close. I put two down before they even knew what was happening. The remaining five shouted in surprise, going for their weapons. “Hold your fire!” I shouted. “I come seeking only information.” They froze, stunned. For a second the only sound was that of choking, coming from one of the dying men on the ground. Soon that too stopped and I spoke again. “I am looking for my brothers. Tell me what you know and I will allow you your lives.”

One of them stepped up, the leader I supposed. “Go to hell, freak,” he said, and raised his gun.

Before he could squeeze the trigger, an arrow appeared through his neck. He hit the ground with a loud _thump._ The others looked around wildly, trying to find where it had come from. Another arrow whizzed through the air soon after, striking a second Dragon. The remaining men looked at me in shock. 

“Somebody better start talking,” I said.

One of them stepped forward, a pock-marked man in ragged clothes. He had the gang’s calling card tattooed on his neck. “A-alright man, easy. I don’t know nothin’ about any of that. You guys?” He turned to the others, looking for help. The other two shook their heads vigorously.

I got straight to the point. “Where’s Hun?”

Thinking on it, I’d decided that the best course of action would be to find whoever was responsible for orchestrating this ambush on us. Since the Dragons answered only to one man, he was the one I zeroed in on. He was not, however, an easy person to find even on a normal day, let alone while the city was under attack. I’d been questioning his men as to his whereabouts, but so far no one was giving him up--or, they didn’t know where he was. There did seem to be some disconnect going on within the gang which I suppose wasn’t hard to believe, all things considered. 

“I dunno,” Neck Tat said. “No one’s seen him for a while. Word is he bounced when all this bullshit started.”

Same answer they all gave. Almost too similar really, as if they’d been instructed to repeat it. I was getting really tired of this. “There’s a van, black, with your dragon painted on the side. Do you know the one I’m talking about?” No one said anything but I caught the other two glancing at each other. Bingo. I threw a roundhouse into Neck Tat’s face and laid him out. I took a step forward, closing the gap between us. The last two Dragons were white as sheets. Easy prey. I grabbed the one on the right by his shirt and wrenched him forward so that we were face-to-face. “This is your last chance,” I growled.

“That’s Chinga’s van,” he blurted out. “We don’t run together, I just seen him around!” 

“Where!”

“I heard his crew’s holed up in a place not too far from here, on the waterfront! Pier 36, I think.”

I knew the place. He was right, it wasn’t far. The other Dragon was getting antsy. I stared at him a moment, warning him silently not to move. Turning my attention back to the one in my grip, I said, “Alright. Now tell me the truth about Hun and you can go. He’s still in the city, isn’t he?”

He never got the chance to answer. As soon as he opened his mouth, we all heard it. A low rumble with a high-pitched _chittering_ sound accompanying it. My eyes shot wide. Six months of fighting armies of them and I knew that sound all too well; it was a wave of them, coming hard and fast. There wasn’t much time. I dropped the thug and ran for the nearest fire escape. Just before I leaped they turned the corner and I saw them--hundreds of large, iridescent bugs (scarab beetles, I thought), barreling down on me, coming so fast they were crawling and tripping over one another like lemmings over a cliff. I headed skyward without looking back. The screams of the remaining Dragons below sent a chill ripping up my spine. There was no love between our clans, but what a way to go. I certainly didn’t envy their fate. A lesson in choosing one’s path, to be sure; a life dedicated to manipulating and preying on one’s peers was sure to have karmic repercussions. 

I reached the top of the building and greeted the figure there. Splinter pulled back his hood, bow in hand. “Excellent work, Leonardo. These gang members … I see they respect your presence.” He seemed pleased with that.

I smiled. “We do have a little bit of a reputation,” I said. That was putting it lightly. Splinter didn’t join us very often, and so he wasn’t as knowledgeable when it came to the inner workings of gang warfare. Which was why I was doing the talking, while he offered support from the shadows. “You should see them when Casey and Raph enter the fight. I actually saw one faint from fear, once.” 

He chuckled. I filled him in quickly and we made for the south bank, towards what I hoped would finally be some answers.

**\----------------------------------**

The pier was empty. Splinter and I circled the area, looking for signs of life. There were none, but we did locate the van, parked on the corner of the lot. I tried the door and found it open. It was empty of course. A search inside turned up only one thing of note--red stains in the back, on the floor.

Splinter called me over to a nearby window. “Here, my son. Observe.”

It was dark, but I could see items inside reflecting the moonlight. No people, but there was furniture, drug paraphernalia, empty food containers … someone had been squatting here, and recently. We made our way inside to investigate. The first floor showed no clues to their whereabouts. It wasn’t until we descended into the basement, that we finally found the first solid trace of my missing brothers. 

Spatters of blood. That was what I saw, registering it along with the two chairs in the center of the room. Two individuals sat there and one of them bled. That was the first thought. Second thought: not too badly. There was a good amount underneath one, but survivable, I thought. I kneeled next to the bigger stain and touched the ground. Dry, just as it looked. 

I stood, looking for other clues. I turned up a tooth minutes later, a little wide to be human, but still hard to say. I pocketed it for some reason. It wouldn’t really do Donnie any good at this point, but it just didn’t feel right leaving it in this place. I kept searching. Outside of the center stage where it seemed they’d been (tortured) interrogated, I didn’t see anything else disturbed. I sighed. Maybe another dead end after all. After a thorough search turned up nothing else, we made to leave. 

It was there, between the gap of the first and second stair, that’s where I saw it. I bent and picked up the cloth, strikingly bright purple in the dull, dirty surroundings. Just a scrap, and frayed on one end. I rubbed it between my fingers. A piece of Donnie’s mask, I was sure of it.

I stopped a second, scanning the room again. I stepped slowly back to the place with the most amount of blood and stared at it. My hand reached back on its own, feeling over one of my pouches, the one where I’d put the tooth. Don’s tooth? There were two chairs here (not three, I was trying not to think) so why had I automatically assumed it was his? I pulled it out again, rolling it back and forth in the center of my palm. I clenched my fist around it. Gruesome as it was, it felt right. Unsure why I was doing it exactly, I sat suddenly, reaching out towards the stain, gripping his tooth, his mask; touching these pieces of my brother. I dove into meditation, going as deep as I could manage. I focused on him, Donatello, trying to establish any sort of connection. 

I sat for an hour at least, walking the plane between worlds. This was not like meditating in the lair. Even with Splinter close by, I had to be careful. I was exposed and unaware of my surroundings. In that state it was too easy to fall victim to a surprise attack. These were desperate times, however. I pushed into a state of consciousness that I otherwise would never have attempted under the circumstances. I could not see them, but I heard things. Auditory snippets, bits of conversation … and in it, I heard a familiar voice.

_(“Stop it, leave him alone! Donnie! Dude are you okay? Donnie say something, please!”)_

My eyes opened. Mikey’s voice. So was it Mike and Don here? What about Raph? Before I could think any more on it, I heard a noise. I turned, scanning the shadows. There, the cabinet in the corner. I drew a sword and moved silently towards it.

I threw open the cabinet door, ready for trouble. Inside was a woman, scantily clothed and cowering on the floor. She screamed and pressed her hands over her eyes. “Oh gawd don’t hurt me!”

Surprised, I lowered my sword. Another Dragon? Could be. “I’m not going to hurt you, unless you give me reason,” I said. “Who are you?”

She peeked from between her fingers and immediately squealed in fright. “Oh you’re one of them! Don’t eat me please!” She backed up farther into the cabinet, whimpering. “Ohgodohgodohgod …”

“Stop that,” I said. “I am not ‘one of them.’ And I am not going to eat you.” I backed off a step. “Come out of there and explain yourself.”

She looked unsure, so I backed off another step. Slowly she crawled out and got to her feet. “You sure you’re not an alien? What are ya then?”

“I’m a mutant turtle,” I said, offering no other explanation. “Why are you here? Where are the people who were here?”

“They cleared outta here days ago. I dunno where.”

I chewed it over for a second. “Did you see any other turtles, like me?”

Her eyes darted. “Yeah … there was two of ‘em. I was scared of ‘em though. I didn’t want nothin’ to do with all that.”

I pressed her harder. “What did they do with them? Are they okay?” She hesitated. “Answer me!”

“I-I don’t know! They were askin’ ‘em questions and stuff. I told you, I didn’t want nothin’ to do with it. I went up to my girlfriend’s place for a couple of days. When I got back Chinga, the whole crew--they were gone!”

Great. “You knew them? You must have a phone number, something.”

She bobbed her head with attitude. _“Tsk,_ yeah. I called that ass right away. He said we were done, he had a big score and was retiring outta the city. They took a boat, can you believe that? Well screw him.” She held up her hand as though there were a phone in it and pressed one gaudy nail to it. “De-lete. I can do better than that sorry _cholo_ any day.”

I sighed, pressing a hand to my head. Moving on. “Where’s Hun?” I asked.

“Who?” I grabbed her wrist, turning it over. There, above the dragon tattoo was his name written in cursive. “Oh, him,” she said, looking away. “I dunno. We ain’t together anymore.”

“When was the last time you saw him?”

“Looong time ago. I heard he cleared out too. Haven’t seen him since before all this.” She waved her hand around. 

Same answer they were all giving. Was it really true? Then who was calling the shots? Maybe no one was. Maybe this Chinga person was the mastermind. It just didn’t sit right. I was missing something, I was sure of it. I looked back over at the two chairs in the room. Quietly, I asked, “How did they look when you saw them? My brothers, I mean. Were they okay? Were they hurt?”

“Brothers, huh? Guess I see the resemblance,” she said. The humans never did get tired of that joke. “I dunno. One was okay, the other … he didn’t look so good.”

“The one wearing purple?” I asked, tapping my own mask.

“Yeah. Sorry.”

I nodded. How I wished I could have at least gotten an image of them. I gave the woman a short bow. “Thank you for answering my questions.” I made for the stairs, keeping my eyes trained on her just in case.

“Hey, wait up a sec.” She smiled a little shyly, stepping towards me. “So um … I’m sorta all by myself here and you know it ain’t exactly safe for a girl on her own out there right now.” She eyed me up and down. “Now that I’m getting a better look, you ain’t too bad. Kinda cute, in a cartoon-character sorta way. You got a lotta muscles, for a weird, turtle guy.” She pressed even closer, crushing my personal space. “You wanna be my bodyguard, cutie? I can be … real appreciative.” 

She smiled and heaved her voluminous chest outwards, the shirt she was wearing showing off quite a bit of cleavage. I was … uncomfortable. “N-no thanks,” I said. “I’ve uh … got to go.” I had to get away from this woman. And so, in one of the dumbest moves of my life, I turned my back on her.

I sensed a shift in the air a second too late. The next thing I knew I was on the ground, my feet swept out from under me. I landed hard enough on my shell to send a shockwave through my spine. She leaped on top of me immediately, straddling me. The next thing I knew, the barrel of a pistol was jammed into my temple. “My, that was easy,” she said, her manner of speech suddenly very different. “The way Hun was telling it, I really expected much more of a fight. Aw,” she said, reading my expression, “don’t feel bad. The rest of your clan is probably long gone by now. I’m not much of a believer, but who knows? Maybe you’ll all be reunited on the other side.” She pursed her lips in a kiss. “Farewell, Mr. Mutant Turtle.” 

I braced for impact. There was a pop, but it wasn’t from the gun. It took me a second to register what I was seeing. She wavered upright a moment before slumping over, an arrow pierced through her left eye.

I shoved the body aside and rose slowly. Bested and nearly killed right in front of my master. Were there worse blows to a ninja’s pride? I cringed. “Ahm. Thanks, Sensei.” He smiled and gave me a nod.

My bruised ego aside, the trip to the waterfront wasn’t a total loss. The lady Dragon had admitted she was working for Hun, and what’s more, she’d been there waiting for us. That meant two things: one, Hun was definitely still in the city, and two: he had to know where my brothers were. Finding him meant that we would find what happened to them. I searched the body for clues. I found ID cards, a sizable sum of cash, and something more interesting: a card for an apartment building. Unlike the other cards in her wallet, this one looked brand new. Closer inspection revealed that it was for an apartment building on Park Avenue, only the most expensive of real estate. Normally it wouldn’t make sense for a Purple Dragon to have such a thing in her possession, and I could only think of one explanation. For the first time since this all began, I finally felt like we’d gotten a break. 

Splinter and I headed out quickly after that. Despite the lucky find, I was still reeling from having been deceived. Such a rookie mistake. I couldn’t believe I’d been so careless. 

“Do not be too hard on yourself, my son,” Splinter said. “Have I ever told you the story of how I was once bested by a kunoichi in my youth? It was then that I learned the hard way: beautiful women and too much sake are a very dangerous mixture.” He told me the story on the way, and I have to say, it was one of the more amusing ones I’d ever heard my father tell. Who knew that Splinter was once so popular with the ladies?

**\----------------------------------**

I crouched inside a bedroom closet--one bigger than my entire bedroom at home--waiting for Hun to return. There was no question I would find him here. The place had been littered with Dragons and it was so strange to see them in such an opulent place. This penthouse was a bizarre look into the life of the other half, and I found myself somewhat disgusted by it all. It was gaudy, extravagant; I could not see a purpose to all these material things. The practical aspects, like the amount of space here for instance, I could see being useful. I could do ten backflips across the dining room alone without touching either wall. The stove in the kitchen had more burners than I knew was possible. Mikey, our house cook, would have lost his mind had he seen it. The items furnishing this place though … so many delicate statues and vases and chandeliers … I was confused as to why a person would want so many of these things. Like my father, I had an appreciation for the fine arts, but most of the items in this place were very ugly to my eye. It seemed to me that these humans paid for things more for the price, rather than for their aesthetic worth.

I sat listening, running a finger over one of a hundred pairs of shoes or more, wondering if a person could even wear that many through in an entire lifetime. Far away I heard a click, followed by a door opening, voices and laughter. It was show time. 

Hun was much larger than I was, probably nearly a hundred pounds more. My brothers and I were fit, but we were a good foot shorter than most humans, and that became somewhat of a disadvantage when it came to holding your center of gravity against a larger opponent. I wasn’t looking to engage in combat with him, if possible. It was better to catch him by surprise. I waited. Sure enough, he entered the bedroom with his companions, two of them, by the sound of it. 

He stepped towards the closet and I tensed, ready. When the door opened, I jabbed a sword outwards, leveling it at his neck. “Hello, Hun.”

The two ladies screamed in fright and ran back the way they’d come. “You! How the hell did you get in here! I had guys on every floor!”

“Afraid you’ve got some positions to fill,” I said. “I think you know why I’m here, so let’s cut to the chase.” I glared at him. “Tell me where my brothers are, or I will begin removing your limbs, one by one.”

“You made a big mistake comin’ in here, freak.”

I’d forgotten how fast Hun was. Due to his size, it was easy to assume he’d be slower, but that just wasn’t the case. He caught my sword between his palms and twisted his body, slamming a shoulder into my chest, driving the entire force of his weight into me. Disarmed, I was pushed backwards into the closet, my shell smashing into a standalone, full-sized mirror. I hit the floor amongst shards of glass, the wind completely knocked out of me. As I struggled to catch my breath, he threw himself on top of me, pinning me to the ground. His pressed his forearm into my throat, cutting off my already strained air supply. My lungs cried for air, but I forced myself to remain calm. I locked one of his legs in mine and heaved with everything I had. I flipped him, we rolled, and I ended up on top. Before he could act, I grabbed a large shard of the glass and pressed it deep into his neck, holding it at the last possible edge before it broke skin. 

“Move, and you die,” I said, breathing hard.

He stared at me. I tensed, thinking he was going to try attacking again, but instead he turned up both palms. “Alright, take it easy. I heard you’re lookin’ for your freak clan, but I ain’t got nothing to do with it.”

“Don’t lie to me!” I shouted. “I saw your men take them with my own eyes!” It wasn’t technically true, but I knew they’d been taken away in a Dragon van, which was good enough for me. I drove the shard in another millimeter and a trickle of blood escaped, trailing down the glass.

“I know, alright! Look, I heard all about it. You been after my guys all week--word travels! But I’m tellin’ ya the truth. The order didn’t come from me. This was a side job, I swear!”

“You’re lying!” I pressed my free hand to his throat, applying more pressure.

“I’m … not!” he croaked. “Swear on my momma’s skull. But I can find out where they are. Get offa me and let’s discuss it!”

I waited another few seconds, trying to read him. Hun was the last person on Earth I would trust, but killing him wouldn’t get me any closer to finding the others. Reluctantly, I took my hand away and stood, snatching up the sword I’d lost in the struggle.

I backed off a step, careful of the glass on the floor. “Alright. Start talking.”

Hun stood slowly, giving me a murderous look. He bent, picking up one of the shards and I tensed, expecting some sort of attack. Instead he raised it up to his face, using it to look at the small cut in his neck. He rubbed at it a second later. “Like I said, I didn’t order the attack on you guys. I got better things to do than start a war inside a war.” He chucked the glass shard to the ground. “A few days ago I hear somethin’s gone down with your crew, and that some of our guys are involved. Naturally I wanted to know what. I ain’t fond of business being conducted behind my back, especially when it involves other gangs.” Other gangs. As if we were so low. I scrunched up my snout at the word. “Anyways, turns out some punk-ass upstart went ahead and pulled the job. Hey, gotta admit, he did pull it off.” He was taunting me, but I kept myself steady. There was no reason to give him any satisfaction. “But I dunno where they’re at. I sent Zora, one of my girls, over to investigate but it was too late. They must’ve got wind, because she said it looked like they took off in a hurry.” He rubbed at his chin. “I haven’t checked in with her in a while, but she’s laying low over there, waiting to see if they show. Should probably give her a call.”

“You’d be wasting your time,” I said.

He stared at me a second, until it sunk in. “Aw, maaan. Zora? The one with the …” He gestured outwards from his chest with both hands.

“Yes,” I said cutting him off. “Are you going to pretend that you didn’t order her to kill me? Because she gave you up in the end.”

He shook his head. “That’s a damn shame.” He shrugged. “But hey--you been pickin’ off mine all week, so don’t act surprised.” 

I was tired of this conversation. “Get to the point, Hun. Can you find my brothers, or not?”

He smiled. “Maybe I already have.”

Now I was getting angry. “Stop jerking me around! If you know something, spill it!” 

He laughed. The sound of it was grating to me. “Relax, freak. I’m screwin’ with ya. I don’t know where they are, but I heard some things. Got a rumor that Chinga’s crew was meetin’ with somebody up north. I already put the word out to everybody. It’s only a matter of time before we find ‘em.” He crossed his arms and smiled at me. I didn’t like that look at all. “Now let’s talk about what I get outta this.”

I breathed deep, steadying myself. “What do you want?”

“One year. You stay outta Dragon business. That means you don’t intervene on anything, you got me? And that goes for the hockey mask psycho too.”

“Hockey Mask doesn’t answer to me. And that’s too much. Six months,” I said. I couldn’t believe I was negotiating this, but again, desperate times.

“Nine.”

I thought it over. Raphael was going to throw me off a building when he heard. He and Casey made a sport of hunting Dragons, it was their thing. This was seriously going to put a damper on their “Saturday Nights,” (which were sometimes also Fridays, and/or Sundays, and/or a weekday or two), in which they’d throw back beers in-between throwing down with some of the lower echelon street thugs around town. Something I admit I never liked the idea of, but Raph was smart enough. He never let himself get too blitzed before taking them on. Or so I hoped. 

“Alright Hun, you have a deal. I’ll give you nine months of immunity from my brothers and I only. In return, you will make this your highest priority.” I went to the nightstand and scrawled onto the pad there. “There’s a number on this paper. When you hear of anything, call it.” The number was to a pre-paid throw-away, one of many we kept on hand for just such an occasion. The modern ninja’s “note tied to an arrow,” as Donnie would have put it. I turned to leave, keeping my eyes on him. “Sensei?” I called out. Splinter emerged from behind a bureau on the other side of the room. “We’re done here.” 

I caught Hun’s surprised expression just as we left. He glanced around, as if more of us might emerge. “Friggin’ ninjas,” he muttered.

**\----------------------------------**

Grounded. That’s how I felt. I gave my word not to hunt Dragons. I returned instead to the waterfront basement and again to the warehouse where it all began, but those searches turned up nothing new. I should have rested in that time, I just couldn’t bring myself to. I couldn’t stop.

Two more days passed without word and again, I felt myself teetering on the edge of losing hope. I kept pulling out the phone and checking it, making sure it was still working, making sure I hadn’t missed the call from Hun. I was driving myself crazy and there was no logical reason for it. Like chewing on glass. You can stop, but you don’t. You chew and chew, breaking teeth and tearing gums in an impossible, pointless effort. I ran the city, dodging insects, engaging them sometimes; every step torture. I was looking, but there was no direction to go in. I was so tired it didn’t even feel safe leaping the rooftops, something I’d done so much I _could_ have done it in my sleep. I didn’t care. I had to keep going. I had to keep doing something.

On the third night I came home utterly exhausted. That evening I dreamed my teeth were crumbling to bits, my mouth bleeding, gushing, and it was so real my hands shot to my face when I awoke.

**\----------------------------------**

Day four after my meeting with Hun found me wandering the silent passages of our lair, looking in on rooms that were too empty, thinking on better times. I didn’t want to do this. I didn’t want to start remembering. I wanted to think ahead and know that these areas would be filled with noise again. Even if it was fighting. I would have given anything to have an argument with Raphael right there, if it meant breaking the sickening stillness around me.

I shuffled past the doors to their bedrooms, looking at them like it was the first time I’d ever seen them. Raph’s door had a chunk taken out of the side, where he and Mike had slammed into it roughhousing. Don’s looked neat. It had a single sticker in the corner of a molecule, I think it was. Or maybe an atom? He would have rolled his eyes at me. I always got the two confused. 

At Mikey’s door I paused. I pushed it open, looking inside. The room was a mess, as usual. Food dishes, overflowing trashcan, comics, games and media were scattered everywhere. Ordinarily I would never think to enter one of their rooms--it was a major breach of privacy, after all--but I couldn’t help myself. I sat lightly on the bed, reaching down a second later to pull a pizza crust away from my thigh. I stared at it a second, before tossing it into (well, in the direction of,) the trashcan. Pizza crust in the bed. If nothing else screamed Mikey, that certainly did. 

A chirping noise broke me from my thoughts. I looked over at a pile of clothes and saw two eyes looking at me from beneath a shirt. A second later Klunk hopped soundlessly on the bed next to me, rubbing against me and purring. I stroked his fur for a while and found it calming. I could understand why people liked cats. They were independent, yet attentive to the needs of others. I had taken note of Klunk’s concern for the sick and injured in our house. We often joked that he was nurse; whenever the infirmary had a resident, you would be sure to find him curled up on the cot inside, watching over. 

I scratched him behind the ear and he closed his eyes, leaning into it. Cats were also the silent assassins of the animal kingdom, and that alone was deserving of my respect. Klunk stared at me and mewed. He seemed to want something, or maybe I was just imagining it.

“I’ll find him, don’t worry,” I promised the cat. As ridiculous as it was, I felt like I was lying to him.

Later that night, Splinter called me into his room. I was nervous. We had talked extensively about Hun, about the Dragons, about what our course of action was. I knew he supported all of my ideas. I just wasn’t sure if I still did. Was it wrong to trust in Hun? I wasn’t sure what other choice we had. Any way you looked at it, our lair was still empty. What was I doing wrong?

I kneeled on the tatami mat in his room, waiting. He was standing a few feet away, staring at a picture of the four of us. He went to a shelf at the wall, reached out and picked up a small, cracked, ceramic vase. “Do you remember when this was broken, my son?”

“Yes, Sensei.”

He turned it over in his hands thoughtfully, tracing the cracks with one clawed finger. “One must not attach oneself too much to material things. Even so, I was quite disappointed in Michelangelo for being so careless.” He looked at me from the corner of his eye. 

I blinked a few times. “You know it was Mikey?” It dawned on me. “You always knew.”

“Indeed.”

I straightened. I remembered that day well. Many years ago, we’d been training in Splinter’s absence, while he was off on a retreat to the north. I’d led the session and it had gone well until Mike pulled out his latest toy--a yo-yo Splinter had given him. He showed it off proudly, swinging it around and around--until the knot broke and the thing flew, top speed, through the _shoji_ door to Splinter’s room. We all heard the crash and winced. The vase was a keepsake and one of very few possessions Sensei kept in remembrance of his lost love, Tang Shen. When we saw what happened, we three looked at Mike like he was a dead man walking. 

Mike was inconsolable. He’d already been in hot water twice that week for losing focus and this was going to put him in the red. What would Sensei do to him we wondered? Too many screw ups in a row usually meant endurance training. Would he make Mikey hold weights for hours on end? Push-ups until he puked? String him upside down and leave him overnight? The more scenarios we suggested, the more panicked Mikey got. I started to feel bad for him. After all, Mikey always means well. He’s never defiant on purpose, he just gets distracted easily. It frustrates me to no end when we’re out on the field, but I’ve learned to accept that that’s just the way Mikey’s brain works. Besides, he’s still easier than dealing with Raph.

When the tears started to flow, I knew it was over. I hated to see him so upset. What else could I do? My track record was clean. I took the fall for him. “Sensei with all due respect,” I said, “If you knew it was Mikey, then why did you punish me?” Three weeks of extra chores no less, though Mike did help out when Sensei wasn’t looking. 

He smiled. “I wanted to see if you would follow through. It is one thing to offer sacrifice Leonardo, it is quite another to endure it.” He replaced the vase upon the shelf and turned to me. “I have watched you grow in more ways than I would know to describe. I have seen you accomplish things where I did not expect you to. My expectations have always been high, yet you continue to exceed them, my son.” In a show of humility, he suddenly kneeled himself, facing me. I forced myself to look up and meet him eye to eye. “Leonardo. One must question oneself. It is how we learn, how we grow, how we understand our faults and the faults of others. This, you know.” He closed his eyes for a second, breathing deep, before he continued. “But there is harm in questioning oneself too much. This is what you do not know. You are of the mind that one can never be too hard on oneself,” he said, “but that is not the truth, my son. You must be wary of succumbing to doubt. It can unravel even the strongest of warriors.”

“Father,” I said, pleading. “I’m trying, but … there’s no room for error this time. I can’t fail.”

A shadow passed over his features. “No,” he said. “You cannot.” I bowed my head. He was disappointed, I knew it. Softening, he said, “Do you remember, when I first appointed you leader of this team? We spoke of many things, of many new responsibilities that this would bring. I told you that failure would come at a price, and that price would be yours alone to pay.”

“I remember,” I said, barely above a whisper. 

“The foremost duty of a clan leader is to protect the welfare of his brethren. In our clan, this means so much more, for your brethren are quite literally your brothers. This is an immense burden to bear my son, and I was very careful in my choice before I appointed you in that role. You did not perhaps know the pressure that would come with it.” He paused a moment in thought, before moving on. “I was patient with you. You had--and still have--much to learn. However, I was not so lenient when it came to your most important task. For you are all my sons, and I needed one to be my eyes when I could not be there.” 

“Forgive me, Sensei.” I couldn’t bear the guilt any longer. “This is all my fault! I led us into a trap. I-I didn’t read the signs. With the invasion going on, I assumed they were weak. I never should have underestimated them. And now I’ve paid for it with my brother’s lives ...”

I tried to say more, but Splinter raised a clawed hand, stopping me. “Leonardo. You misunderstand. I do not blame you for what has happened.” I looked back up at him. He didn’t? “We choose the life of ninja knowing the dangers, and your brothers each chose this path knowing the consequences. I do not believe your decisions are to blame for this unfortunate outcome.” He placed his hands on my shoulders. “You forget sometimes my son, that your brothers are smart, and resourceful. They too, surprise me in ways just as you have. They may yet surprise you, as well.”

He stood once again, returning to the picture on the wall, where he’d been when we first began this talk. “The most difficult task of any parent,” he continued, “is to allow your little ones to enter the world. Push them too soon, and they fall to their death. Too late, and they will fear leaving at all. One must merely show the way, without stifling the individual. It is not for us to decide for one another. You are an adult now, and more than capable of leading our clan.” He smiled at me. “I have guided you, my son. But you have found your own path, and I believe that you have chosen it well. I am confident that you will bring your brothers home.” 

I couldn’t speak at first. Even though my brothers were still out there and their fates were unknown, I felt renewed. “Thank you, Sensei,” I managed. I started to say more, but something stopped me. I stiffened suddenly. My shell was vibrating. I reached back into a pouch there. “It’s my phone,” I explained. No apology was necessary this time. I answered immediately.

I was at first disappointed to find that it was my personal cell, and not the disposable number I’d given Hun. Probably April or Casey then, calling to check in. I glanced at the number but didn’t recognize it. I answered it. “Hello?”

“Leo?”

I looked at Splinter in utter shock. “Mikey?”


	3. Chapter 3

I bolted into Don’s lab, phone in hand. “Did you see any road signs? Street names?” He didn’t answer. “Mike? Mike!”

He was fading in and out. The first question I asked was if he was hurt. He said yes, something about his leg, but was vague on details. He was confused, I could tell right away. I was having a lot of trouble getting him to focus, which might sound funny any other time, but I definitely wasn’t laughing now. 

“Yeah …” he said finally, breathing heavily into the phone. “When I leffft … the, uh, freeway, I saw signs for Albany. Think I’m … somewhere ‘round there.”

Albany was pretty far north, at least a hundred and fifty miles. He didn’t remember which freeway, but he did say the signs were leading in, so that would likely put him south of there. I frantically started sticking pins in Don’s map while asking for landmarks. He said he was on a river. A big one? Yes. Had to be the Hudson. I stuck a pin. What did he see? A restaurant, boats, a construction yard; he gave me more vague answers, but I jotted down every detail. 

I pressed him for more information, but he cut me off. “Leo … I gotta go. I’m … it’s not safe. I’m out in the open.”

I told him to go, to hide. I said I would be there as soon as I could, that I would find him. I told him to hang on. He hung up and I sat for a minute with my eyes closed. This was not going to be an easy trip and I needed to be prepared. The northern blockade was difficult to pass and would take me hours. I checked the map again. Northampton was closer than we were. I dialed April and Casey. After many rings, Casey finally answered, groggy but there. After I explained the situation he was of course on point. I tried to pass on as much information as I could. He was running out the door even as we hung up. 

I wasn’t sure what to expect. I didn’t know about the others, but I planned ahead just in case. I went through Don’s lab, packing essentials, tossing everything I could think of into a messenger bag. I briefed Splinter and he wished me luck. There was no sense in us both going, especially when Hun could call with information at any moment. It made sense to have at least one of us here at home base, just in case one of the others turned out to be close by. 

I turned the combination lock and slid open the garage door. Inside was Raphael’s motorcycle, my ticket out of the city. I knew how to ride, but I usually preferred not to. I never could understand the appeal. I just didn’t see the purpose of putting your life at risk simply for the thrill of it, and I say that as a ninja who voluntarily engages in combat. But there is purpose to pushing back our enemies; we are at war, and every advantage we allow them, we deny ourselves. I threw on some clothes and secured Raph’s helmet onto my own head, wincing slightly at the smell. As much as I disliked the thing, I was thankful to have the bike now. The fighting around the city had left unexpected road blockages, and so a more nimble vehicle was definitely the way to go. It would get me to the northern end of the island, but eventually I’d have to ditch it so I could pass by the blockades. There were too many soldiers and way too much fighting in the area for me to even attempt stay topside, and so I would have no choice but to head underground on foot. That would take time. Once I passed by the congestion, I would look for a vehicle to hotwire and take me the rest of the way. Three or four hours minimum, I thought, and that’s if everything went smooth. Casey would certainly arrive before I would, but there was no guarantee that he’d be able to locate Mike before I got there. 

I gunned the bike, pushing it through as fast as I dared. Our call had been too brief and I could tell Mikey was really hurt. I tried not to think about him out there in the wilderness, scared, alone and injured. I tried not to wonder why he was calling from so far away, or why he hadn’t mentioned the others at all. 

I stowed the bike in an abandoned lot and made my way across the river to the western bank. The bridge there was of course inaccessible, so I went below, which was only marginally better. The tunnels didn’t have the military crawling all over it, but they were certainly crawling. Engaging the bugs could go from bad to worse in an instant, as it was impossible to tell how many were down there in the nooks and crannies. I opted for stealth over combat, which took more time, but I had no choice. It wouldn’t do Mike any good if I got myself killed trying to get to him.

I liberated a delivery truck from a line of them, feeling less bad about borrowing one of many, rather than someone’s personal vehicle. I searched through until I found one with a full tank of gas, cracked the console, attached the wires, and it sprang to life. So far, so good. I looked at my phone, wondering if he would try to call again, or if I should try calling the number back. The area code checked out against what he’d been telling me, so I knew I was heading in the right direction at least. I decided to call Casey instead, to check in with him. 

Casey was already on the scene, but he didn’t sound hopeful. He’d found the one road Mike remembered seeing, but it ran the length of the river for many miles, meaning there was a lot of ground to cover. I went over the few landmarks Mike had mentioned again and we hung up. I closed my eyes and gripped the wheel just a second, steadying myself. I reminded myself not to speed. The activity in the city had increased the police presence in all surrounding areas. I put the truck in drive and headed north, determined to bring my little brother home.

**\----------------------------------**

There was a yellow, flickering light on one side of the cantina. I focused on the bulb a second, watching as the bugs (normal ones, not the mutated versions) surrounding the light fought to get closer, ramming themselves into the glass over and over as if they couldn’t get close enough. As I watched, a large moth either hit too hard or ran out of steam; a second later he fell to the dock, twitching. I let out a long sigh. When did I last sleep? More than twenty-four hours ago. Maybe more than forty-eight, I wasn’t sure. I looked out over the long wooden dock, listening to the waves lapping against the posts. The restaurant and bait shop were here. Industrial yard across the river, just like he said. A red barge docked a small distance away on the right. Every landmark Mikey described was present. This had to be the right place. So where was he?

That’s when I saw it. A payphone, ancient-looking nowadays, fused to the side of the cantina like it had been there since the beginning, encrusted in the riverside grime. There, flapping in the wind, tied to the strand of metal coil connecting handle to frame, was a long strip of familiar, orange cloth. 

I sprinted towards it, yelling Mikey’s name. I untied the mask and looked at it. The ends of it were stained with blood.

I whistled for Casey. Mike was close, there was no question now--but where? And why wasn’t he answering me? I had to think. What would Mikey do? There was an empty building close by, an abandoned truck in the parking lot … either would make a good hiding spot but would take some time getting into. I had to think like Mikey, and I had to think like Mikey when he was hurt and scared. He wouldn’t be looking for the best place, he’d be looking for the closest, darkest one. First rule of ninja: when in doubt, hide; and there was plenty of doubt in Mikey’s voice when he called. I walked out onto the dock, to get a better look down the riverbank. At a loss, I leaned over the railing and looked down at the dark, wet sand there. There were deep impressions, footsteps, with drag marks trailing off to the right. Someone walking, dragging one leg. The trail led from farther up the beach, in the direction of the phone. Got him. 

I vaulted over the railing into the hard-packed sand, searching under the dock for anything body-shaped. Right away I saw a lump in the darkness, my eyes adjusting just enough to pick out an overturned rowboat and tarp. I gripped the edge of the boat and hauled it over. There, face down in the sand, lay Michelangelo. I fell next to him, grabbing him and shaking him. His body felt cold. “Mikey? Mike, come on!” I turned him over, slapping at his face. “Hey! Come on Mikey, wake up!” I kept shaking him and yelling. He wasn’t moving. I pulled him in close, saying the words over and over. “Come on Mikey, please! Please wake up.” 

He groaned, and shifted. He didn’t come to, not all the way, but it was okay. He was alive. 

Casey came running up. The two of us were able to carry Mike back to the van. As we pulled out, my initial relief began to wear off and I took it all in. Mikey was really beat up. He had a sizeable wound in his right thigh, a puncture of some sort, maybe from a bullet. The whole area was swollen and bled whenever we moved him. I stripped some rags from the van to tie around it. There was another long cut in the side of his neck, but it wasn’t too deep and looked like it had clotted. Still, that entire side of him was painted red, and I was very concerned at the amount of blood he’d lost already. The rest of his body was covered in small cuts and bruises. There weren’t any blankets or anything in the van, so I pulled off my clothes and dressed him in them, trying to keep him warm. It was chilly by the river at night, but we were lucky for the time of year; had the weather been colder, he might not have survived at all.

I tried to talk to Mike on the ride back, but he was out cold. He mumbled a few things, moaning and crying out for Donatello specifically, something that didn’t help to lessen my worry, but I still couldn’t shake the fact that we _had_ him, he was here, safe, and that was one down. Finally, I had found one of my brothers. 

I made Mike as comfortable as I could and returned to the passenger seat. “How much longer?” I asked Casey.

“Ahhh … half an hour, about,” he said. We were heading back to Northampton naturally, our only safe house this far north. “How’s he doin’?”

I shook my head. “He’s out. He … he keeps talking in his sleep. About Donnie, mostly.” I didn’t know why I was explaining. Casey could surely hear everything himself. “Donnie, he …” I couldn’t finish. I suspected Don had sent Mikey back to us for some reason, but none of the explanations in my mind were good ones.

“Whatever you need, man,” Casey said, taking his eyes from the road and looking at me straight on, “you know I’m in. Just say the word.” 

“Thanks Casey. You’re a good friend.”

He reached out and slapped a hand down on my shoulder. “We’re gonna get ‘em back Leo, don’t you worry.”

I changed the subject after that, asking him about April and about their time in the farmhouse. I tried to make it sound natural, like there wasn’t this enormous cloud hanging over us all, but it wasn’t easy. Casey seemed to understand though. We filled the time with small talk and I checked on Mikey throughout, but there was no change in his state until two days later.

**\----------------------------------**

He was talking in his sleep. That was something Mikey had always been prone to doing, funny enough. The joke between us being the obvious one of course: that his motormouth just kept going whether he was conscious or not. But once again, there was nothing humorous about what was happening to him now. He was in distress; moaning, suffering in nightmares. Every time he called out for Donatello, it twisted my gut into knots. Wherever Don was, it didn’t sound like he was in any better shape.

April and I tried to clean and dress his wounds, but we didn’t know what was going on with his leg. It looked bad and she thought the same as I did, that it was from a bullet, but there was no exit wound so that probably meant it was still buried inside. I knew it was possible to live without removing it, though not recommended. I wasn’t sure what we should do. I didn’t want to go rooting around in there without knowing for sure. This was where Donatello’s expertise really would have come in hand, and I was feeling the sting of not having him to rely on. 

I dozed lightly on a cot by Mike’s bedside, in one of the upstairs bedrooms of Casey’s farmhouse. I woke to his voice. I assumed he was just talking incoherently again. I waited, listening.

“Donnie? Is that you? Where are we?”

I sat up. I reached over and gripped his forearm. “Donnie’s not here, Mikey. It’s me, Leo.” I didn’t think he would answer back. 

“Leo? Did they get you too?”

It took me a second to process, before I realized what he meant. “No, Mikey. You’re safe now. We’re at the farmhouse.” I stood and turned on the lamp in the corner, so he could see. “Casey and I found you by the river. Do you remember hiding out there?”

He squinted against the light. “Where’s Donnie?” he asked.

His voice was gravelly, spacey (more than usual) and he didn’t seem all there, but this was the most coherent he’d been since we found him. I sat back down on the cot and grabbed his hand. “I don’t know,” I told him. “I was hoping you could tell me that.” I gave him some water, urging him to drink. I had to help him sit up. We’d all had our moments in the infirmary, but I had never seen Mikey in this bad a state. “Mike,” I pleaded. “You’ve got to tell me what happened. Where are Raph and Don?” 

“Dunno ‘bout Raph, they separated us,” he said. “Me and Donnie got sold to Bishop.” His chest started to heave. “Y-you gotta find him, Leo! You gotta find him before they cut him up …”

Bishop. There was that name again. This was bad. How many times had Bishop threatened to dissect us for science? Would he really make good on that threat? I wasn’t about to wait around to find out. “Where?” I asked, pressing him. “Where were they taking you guys?”

“I don’t know,” he said. “I escaped from the truck … he told me to go … he couldn’t walk, and I couldn’t carry him and get away … I-I’m sorry Leo, I left him there.” Tears began to stream down his face.

“Hey.” I stood and wrapped an arm around him. “Hey, it’s alright. You did the right thing, come on.” I tried my best to console him. I couldn’t imagine how hard it had been for him. When he settled down a little, I asked, “Why couldn’t Donnie walk? What was wrong with him?”

He dragged the back of his hand across his face, wiping at it sloppily. “’Cause they beat him real bad,” he said. “He was already busted up from the explosion. He couldn’t really walk too good, even before they laid into him.” His face twisted up with the memory. “They had us tied up in this warehouse for a while.” I grimaced. He was talking about the room with the blood, where I’d found Don’s tooth. “This one dude starts messin’ with us, calling us names, saying they were gonna make all this money off us--then Donnie just snaps. He starts going off on the guy. Calling him stupid, saying it was no big mystery that they were gonna sell us to the Foot. He said they were gonna get ripped off, ‘cause they were too dumb to negotiate. He laughed in the guy’s face! I was like, Donnie, shut up, what are you doin’? But he just kept going. So the guy gets pissed and starts whaling on him, sayin’ Don’s not as smart as he thinks, that they’ve got lots of buyers--one’s the Foot yeah, but another one was some dude who works for the government. A government dude who wanted to dissect us, and was putting up big money for it. That’s how we found out we were going to Bishop.” 

“You know Don did that on purpose, right Mikey?” I said quietly.

“Yeah,” he said. “I figured it out after. I still wish he hadn’t done it, though.” He closed his eyes, fighting back tears again. “It didn’t do any good … they didn’t say where they were taking us. I have no idea where he is now.”

I thought back again to that day in Don’s lab, when he shared with me his theories on the invasion. “I think I know where he is,” I said.

**\----------------------------------**

It took me ten minutes to explain to Sensei how to take a picture and send it through the phone, but eventually I got what I wanted: the map hanging on Don’s wall, and the red pin he’d stuck in it, signifying Bishop’s supposed whereabouts. It was only forty miles north of where we’d picked up Mike and the coincidence was too great for me not to at least check it out.

I looked in on Mike one last time before I left. I didn’t have to convince him to rest. I could tell he was fading out towards the end of our conversation and by the time I went to say goodbye, he was out cold. I pulled up his covers and watched him a moment. If for no other reason, I had to bring Don home for Mike’s sake. He’d never be able to live with the guilt of leaving him behind.

“Keep him hydrated, and see if he’ll eat anything the next time he wakes up,” I said to April. “And try to take his temperature. He felt warm to me.” I thanked her and headed for the door. “We’ll return as soon as we can.” She told me not to worry, she told us both to be careful, and we left; Casey in the driver’s seat once again, me riding shotgun and mentally prepping myself for what I was going to find in Bishop’s lab of horrors. To say I had a bad feeling about it would be the understatement of the century. 

An hour and a half later, we pulled onto a dirt road northeast of Albany. We passed by several farms until I was sure we were close. I told Casey to kill the lights and take it slow. I pulled Don’s thermal goggles, one of the many items I’d taken from his lab, and scanned the countryside. There, to the right and some ways away from the road we were on, I picked up several bodies, positioned high at the corners of a large property. No farm would employ nighttime guards. That had to be the place. I had Casey park the van and I took the rest of the way on foot.

Getting in was easy. Moving around inside was another story. I made it in through a ventilation shaft and crawled to the boiler room, where I dropped in and headed for the door. I peered into the hallway. There was a fixed camera at the end of the hall, making that way a no-go. I considered taking out the camera, but decided against it in the end. I wanted to stay under the radar, at least until I knew where they were keeping Don. It looked like the vents were my only choice. Getting through them wouldn’t be too much of a problem; the trouble was, I didn’t know where I was going. I could end up crawling around for hours, with no idea where I was. With a sigh, I lifted myself back into the vent. That’s when something caught my eye--words, scrawled onto the metal inside: “boiler room,” it said, and there was more. “Labs,” with an arrow to the right and “security, cafeteria, 1st floor” with an arrow to the left. I stared at it stupidly for a second. Was I losing my mind, or had someone left me directions? I shrugged, assuming it must have been put there by the maintenance people who installed it. Of all the times I’d entered buildings this same way, it was first for me. If only they were all this easy. 

Don was probably being held in the labs, but I decided to check out the security situation first. If I could disable the cameras, I might be able to move around more freely. I headed that way. I went into full stealth mode, moving as silently as possible. It took some time but I kept following the vent, sneaking a peek out of every grate to gauge my position. Before long I came across a small eating area and next to that, the security room. I followed the vent leading in and observed two guards sitting inside, watching dozens of screens. This was going to be easy. I reached inside a pack near my belt and pulled out a noisemaker, one of several little homemade flash-bangs I’d also picked up from Don’s lab. I pulled the pin and chucked it all the way down the vent, in the direction of the cafeteria. I reached back and palmed a second one, waiting.

A second later there was a huge _pop_ and the sound of metal denting. Right on cue, both guards shot to their feet and exited the room, heading in the direction of the noise. I tossed the second grenade in the same place and waited. When the second one went off, I kicked open the grate above the security room. The noise masked my entry perfectly and I slipped down inside, unnoticed. I immediately pressed myself against the wall next to the door, listening. I could hear their voices, discussing what could have caused the noise. After a few minutes I heard one stating that he was going to “call it in” and heard him coming back towards me. I kept perfectly still. He entered and went to the desk without so much as a glance in my direction. It always amazed me how often humans, especially those in guard positions, had such little developed senses. I was good at masking my own sounds, but still. Did these men not train for such things? 

I came up behind him and slid an arm around his neck, locking my other arm behind his head in a classic choke hold. He struggled for less than a minute and went limp. Way too easy. I dragged him to a set of lockers in the corner and stuffed him inside, then waited by the door for the second guard to return. 

The other guard went down as easily as the first. I hid his body as well, in case anyone should look in from the hallway. With that done, I scanned the monitors. I saw scientists and their assistants moving around but not much else. A few men in black suits, probably government officials, though there was no sign of Bishop himself. I saw a single man in a yellow radiation suit wandering around who seemed a little out of place but other than that, everything looked normal. No sign of Donnie, but the cameras only covered the larger rooms and connecting hallways. It was time to hit the labs and start searching. 

I didn’t know how long I had before someone noticed the missing guards so it didn’t pay to waste any time. I moved quickly and quietly through the hallways, listening for activity. There weren’t a lot of people here at this hour and that was another advantage. So far this operation was going like clockwork. I should have felt good about it, but the smoother things went, the more it ate away at me. Maybe it was the way Mikey described Don’s condition, or the fact that I’d found no trace of him yet (I couldn’t even be totally sure I was in the right place, after all) but I wasn’t ready to breathe easy yet. 

I made it to the lab area and began systematically searching each room, of which there were dozens, each filled with various scientific experiments. I saw everything from the benign (test tubes, chemicals, computers) to the creepy (genetically altered animals) to the incomprehensible (human experiments). The more I took in, the more I panicked. I had to find Donatello.

After searching a dozen or more rooms, I finally came to one that didn’t look like much at first, but there was something inside that caught my attention. I stepped inside the tiny room, just large enough to house a single operating table, a sink and a few other odds and ends. My attention was on the table. It had restraints for hands and feet and the thing was absolutely doused in blood. I reached out and touched it, looking at the red on my fingers. Someone had bled here, and recently. That was when I began to take in the rest of my surroundings.

There were huge jars filled with different organs in formaldehyde, labeled accordingly and placed in rows. I couldn’t read the labels from where I was standing. They looked like normal, human organs. They could have belonged to anyone. Unmistakable however, was what was sitting next to the jars. There, in a shallow, plastic tub sat the broken pieces of a very large turtle shell. 

I froze, looking away. It couldn’t be. This couldn’t be right. I scanned the room again, looking a little longer at the jars, finally focusing on the shell again. It had the same markings, same geometric pattern on the back. I stepped towards it in a daze. With a shaky hand I reached out and felt along the outer ridge of the largest piece.

No mistake, it was one of ours. 

There were footsteps outside in the distance and somewhere in my mind I heard them, only they didn’t register. I bowed my head. I was too late. I was too late and Donnie … there wasn’t even any way to carry his body home. 

The footsteps became very close and the door opened suddenly. I slid back and crouched behind the operating table for cover, operating myself on instinct. It was the man in the yellow radiation suit, the one I’d seen on the monitors. He pressed himself up against the wall, listening for people outside; they were there, walking past, but again I hardly noticed. I stared at him. I couldn’t make sense of this. As I watched, he removed the headpiece to his suit and exhaled, wiping at his brow. 

I was sure I must be seeing things but there he was, in the flesh. “D-donnie?” I choked out.

The face behind the mask, green, wearing another mask, purple, turned and faced me in absolute shock. He blinked a few times and said, “Leo! What are you doing here?”

**\----------------------------------**

“Donnie,” I said again, as though I were trying to convince myself. “Wh–what is all this stuff?” I blurted out, gesturing towards the grotesque trophies in the corner.

He waved me off. “Oh, that? Something to do with a super-soldier program, I think. Bishop’s been growing pieces of us ever since he got our DNA,” he said, as though that weren’t even the smallest bit surprising to him. “But how did you get here? I didn’t think you would know where to find this place.”

I didn’t answer him. Instead I turned around and leaned back against the stainless steel of the table. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath, trying to convince my heart into slowing down a notch. I felt, just for a second, like I was in danger of blacking out.

“Leo? What’s wrong?” He took a few steps towards me, until we were face to face. 

I opened my eyes slowly and just stared at him, still not sure if this was real or some hallucination brought on by lack of sleep. He was still clothed in the suit but he looked okay--hardly the broken mess Mikey had made him out to be. There was extensive bruising to one side of his face and I could just pick up the faint whistle of a missing tooth when he talked, but that was all. If this was a hallucination then it was a somewhat convincing one, I thought.

He looked back over at the shelves and it clicked. “Oh! The body parts! So you thought--”

I wondered if I looked as weary as I felt. “Yeah, that’s what I thought.” I pushed off of the table and wrapped an arm around his neck, giving him a quick, but tight, hug. 

He laughed a little and hugged me back. “I’m sorry Leo, I didn’t realize. It’s good to see you too.” He slapped me on the arm. “You know, they tried to tell us you were dead but it was such an obvious lie. I never doubted it for a second. I told Mikey to find a phone and call you, first.” He slapped his head, suddenly. “Mikey! Is he okay? Did he make it back alright?”

Hardly. I gave Don a brief account, that Mike was hurt but alive, at least. He’d been in and out of consciousness and I didn’t really know if that was good or bad. Don seemed more concerned as I explained though, and that wasn’t the best sign. I told him not to dwell on it, because we’d be back at the farmhouse in an hour or two and he’d be able to gauge Mike’s condition for himself. All the more reason we should be pressing on, I said.

Right there, Don changed. As soon as I mentioned moving on, I saw him hesitate. “Leo, we can’t leave yet.”

I took a deep breath and braced myself. “Okay. Why?”

“The aliens aren’t aliens.” He smiled a little at me. 

“They’re mutants?” He nodded. “Grown by Bishop?” He nodded again. “For political purposes.” At that point, he was looking far too pleased with himself. “And exactly how do you know all this?” I felt compelled to ask.

He grinned wide and held up a forearm. When he slid back his sleeve, I could see his arm was covered with what looked like charm bracelets. Upon closer inspection, I saw that they were actually black ties dangling with computer data sticks. “I’ve been sneaking around here for two days. I’ve got everything from the cause of the invasion to nuclear launch codes,” he said, proudly giving them a little shake. 

So that’s what it was. Given the seriousness of the matter, I couldn’t figure out why I kept sensing that Don seemed happy, in a strange way. Giddy, even. I thought it had more to do with our reunion, but it was all too obvious now. Our technogeek had been inside a government lab for days, breaking into top secret computers, stealing information and looking through files. It might as well have been a trip to Disneyland for him.

“I’ll fill you in on all the details later,” he said. “Right now, what you need to know is this: there’s a kill switch for the whole operation. Remember what I said about the Hot Spot being a breeding colony? I was right, that’s exactly where the hive is. But this was always a temporary operation, there was a fail-safe built right in! All I need is the code. Once we input that, it will release a chlorine-based gas into the chambers, killing the queens.” 

That was great news, but I wasn’t sure about lingering there. I cut right to the chase. “Alright. What do we need to do?” 

He explained. “The code is locked down in a room on the far end. I haven’t been able to access it for a few reasons.” He started ticking them off on his fingers. “One, the vents don’t lead inside. Two, it requires a retinal scan to enter. And three, it’s under camera surveillance, watched by live guards.” He pulled at the yellow fabric on his chest. “This suit is fine for getting around the labs, but it won’t fly in the upper-level security zones.”

“The cameras won’t be a problem, I took out the guards already,” I told him.

“You … took them out?” he asked. I nodded. He got quiet all of the sudden. “Oh.”

“What’s the matter?”

He looked away, embarrassed. “Nothing. It’s just that … well, I don’t think these guys really know what they’re guarding, Leo. They’re just doing a job. That’s why I didn’t … ‘take them out’ myself.” 

Donnie the pacifist ninja. It wasn’t really true; Don did what he had to do when the need arose. He just had a slightly tighter moral compass than the rest of us. Raph got on his case little too much about it though. I was a little offended that he thought I’d just cut down a couple of grunts without provocation, though. “I didn’t say I killed them,” I said. He looked at me, confused. “Sleeper hold, Don. I just knocked them out. Also, I had a little help getting their attention.” I patted the small satchel at my hip, one I knew he’d recognize as his light grenade pack.

“Oh! Good, I’m glad you found my latest batch. Okay.” He chewed his lip. “Well in that case, I wonder if security is granted retinal access?”

“I don’t know, but whatever we do, we need to do it quick. There’s no telling how long they’re going to be out.” We hurried towards the guard station. Once inside, I went to the lockers and pulled out the smaller of the two guards. He moaned a little as I moved him. “See?” I said. “Still alive.” Don grinned. I lifted the man over my shoulder. “Let’s do it.”

“Wait. There’s one more thing.”

I gave him an evil stare. “What now?”

“We need to destroy the recorded video logs,” he said, going to the monitors. “I don’t want them to know what I took. Better they don’t know we entered that room at all.”

I didn’t know why that mattered so much, but I figured Don had his reasons. “Alright, so we need erase the tapes, is what you’re saying?”

He rolled his eyes. “Tapes? Really Leo? What is this, 1984?” He tapped around on the keyboards there. “I’m afraid deleting the data won’t be enough, they might be able to recover it. We need to physically destroy these hard drives.” He reached under the desk and started ripping equipment out of the walls. Screens started to go dark all over the room. When he was finished, there was a sizable pile of electronics left over. I went for my sword and he made a _tsk_ sound. “That’s not going to work,” he said. He grabbed the satchel I was wearing and started rooting around inside. “Come on, come on … yes! C4! This should do the trick. Help me pry off these casings.”

I did as he instructed. He circled the open guts of the boxes around the little grey block of clay. When he was satisfied, he said, “Okay, let’s go. This is going bring some attention, so we’ll blow it on the way out.”

I hoisted the unconscious guard once again. “Lead the way,” I said.

**\----------------------------------**

We were in luck. Don peeled back the man’s eyelids while I held him up. A quick scan and the door clicked open.

“Yes!” Don exclaimed. “Okay, give me a minute.” He went to the main console and started working his magic. “This is going to be encrypted,” he explained, “but, I already located the key. Found a copy of it on some lab assistant’s personal drive. Can you believe that? Amazing what some of these amateurs won’t stoop to stealing.” 

“Yeah, it’s something else,” I muttered, rolling my eyes.

He pulled one of the data sticks from his wrist and plugged it in. “Okay. Now we let it do its thing. Shouldn’t take more than a few minutes.”

Something had been on my mind for a while now, and it seemed a good time to ask. “Don, are you okay? I mean, you’re not hurt or anything? I think I found one of your teeth.”

“Oh, yeah. The Dragons knocked it out. Truth is, it’s been loose since I got smacked in the face with that hammer back in October.” He shuddered, remembering. “My mouth was so swollen I was on liquids for a week. You try to help one old lady across the street ...” He shook his head.

I laughed a little. “You really need to learn how to pick out the crazies better, Don.” Something was still bothering me, though. “The way Mikey was talking, I expected to find you beaten to a pulp.” Maybe Mike had been more out of it than I thought. 

He cringed, looking caught. Oh, now I got it. “You were faking it,” I said.

He shrugged. “Hey, it worked. You wouldn’t believe how they lowered their guard around me. It was embarrassing. As soon as they brought me here I overwhelmed them and ‘escaped.’ Or so they think.”

“You sent Mike off and didn’t escape on purpose. You _wanted_ to come here.” I crossed my arms and glared at him.

“I was going to go with him, I swear! At the last minute I decided to chance it. I know, it was risky--”

“Risky doesn’t even begin to describe it!” I was livid. Don was usually so level-headed. I couldn’t believe he’d so readily put himself in danger like this. “And while you’ve been here playing around with computers, Mikey’s been bleeding to death, Raph’s still out there somewhere, and I’m worrying myself into an early grave. So is Sensei,” I added. “Why would you do this!”

“Because I’m sick of it, Leo!” he snapped. “I’m sick of fighting them! I’m sick of the destruction, the death--and it’s getting worse every day! They’re spreading--I know it, you know it--the question is, if this was a temporary operation, why haven’t they pulled the plug on it? From a political standpoint it’s already served its purpose, so why is it getting worse?” He slumped back into the chair. “I saw an opportunity to get in here and find the truth. I’m sorry.” He suddenly looked very tired. “I just want this war to end.” 

There had been a lot of civilian casualties. I knew Don was taking it harder than the others. He’d been losing sleep for months, trying to get to the root of the cause. I stared at him for a few seconds. “Alright I understand,” I conceded. “Just ... don’t do anything like this again. Next time, you come home first, and we do this together.” He nodded and apologized again. 

“Just one more thing,” I said. “Why didn’t you let Mikey in on it? He was really upset about you, you know. He’s even been talking about you in his sleep.”

That got him, I could tell. “We were under constant surveillance. They had a camera on us, in the truck.” I gave him a skeptical look. “I tried, okay! I tried a couple of times to tell Mikey that I was fine, that I wasn’t hurt--he just thought I was being brave, or something. And then he would try to comfort me …” He groaned and covered his face. “It’s like trying to drill through solid titanium sometimes.” He stared off into the computer screen. “I never should have separated us. I thought I was doing the right thing, by getting him out of danger.”

“What happened to Mikey isn’t your fault,” I said. “Besides, I wouldn’t have known to come here, if he hadn’t told me. And I think I’m right in assuming that you wouldn’t have left until you got this code.” His expression said I was right. “It was a tough call.”

He seemed to accept that. I told him he could make it up to Mike when we got back, starting with getting that bullet out of him. Shortly after that, Don finished up on the computer and we headed out, back towards the security room in order to blow the C4. The explosion would no doubt bring more guards right to our position, so it was back to the vents for us. When we were in, I mentioned heading towards the boiler room, which was the closest point to our exit.

“One second.” Don pulled a small keychain flashlight from his pocket and used it to light up the wall inside the vent. Right away I saw the writing there. 

It hit me. “You wrote the notes inside the vents, didn’t you?”

“Of course!” he said. “You didn’t think I’d just keep crawling around in circles here, did you?” He laughed. “Come on, boiler room is this way.” 

When we were out of the blast range, he pulled out the detonator and told me to cover my ears. The explosion was much larger than I expected and the fallout was staggering, considering how freely we’d been walking around this place. Alarms went off immediately. We heard the sound of men running through the halls, shouting. Outside, things were even worse. Trucks were circling the grounds and searchlights shone from the towers at each of the four corners of the yard. Still, it was dark and we were careful. 

When we got back to van, I was actually feeling pretty good. I’d found Don, and he was fine. On top of that, we had something that might even stop the invasion. Despite my misgivings about him taking the initiative on this one, I couldn’t deny that everything had come out alright in the end. I still had Raph on my mind, but after finding the other two I was starting to feel hopeful again. We slid open the door and jumped inside. “Hey,” I said to Casey. “Look who I found.”

“’Eyyy, Donnie!” He swung around and high-fived him. “Good to have ya back, man.”

I slid back into my place in the passenger seat, ready to relate our adventure to our vigilante friend. When I turned to him though, he was just sitting, staring forward with both hands on the wheel. The look on his face said something was wrong. “Casey? What is it?” I asked.

He sighed, throwing the van into drive. “Just got a call from April. Mikey’s not doin’ so good.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _1984 ... a good year, no?_


	4. Chapter 4

I bolted from the van and headed straight for Mikey’s room, Don right at my heels. April was there, by his bed. Her face lit up when she saw us, and especially when she caught sight of Don.

“Donnie!” she exclaimed. “I’m so glad you’re safe.”

They hugged, and then she started going over Mike’s condition with him. I listened as they went back and forth but my attention was on Mike. It had been eight hours or so since I last saw him and I couldn’t believe how drastic the change was. His color was bad, his eyes sunken in their sockets. I reached out and pulled back one eyelid gently. Right away I could feel how hot he was to the touch. It didn’t make sense to me. He was talking when I left. I thought he would be alright. 

I did feel better that our house medic was taking the reins though. We’d all had first-aid training but Don had an extensive knowledge of, well, just about everything. The saying around the lair was that if it was broke, Donnie could fix it. April and I assisted where we could, boiling water, sterilizing instruments, retrieving medicines, et cetera. I made a run out to the nearest pharmacy to liberate some sort of antibiotic Don wanted. The name of it was so long he had to write it down and it took me a while to pick through the various bottles in the dark, but eventually I found what we needed.

It took nearly two hours to extract the offending slug. When I heard it _tink_ onto the metal tray, I breathed a small sigh of relief. Mike never woke once during; probably for the best since I couldn’t imagine it being very pleasant without any sort of anesthetic. He shifted and moved a lot though, much to Don’s annoyance, and so it became my job to try and hold him still. When he was done, Don stood, wiping his hands. He stared at Mike for a few seconds without a word, before he left to clean up.

I knew Donnie was still feeling responsible. I heard him in the kitchen hours later, after April and Casey were both asleep. Mike was still out and I had taken watch, but I decided I could leave him for a few minutes. 

I walked in, pulled out the chair opposite Donatello and sat down. I leveled with him. “Is he going to be alright?”

Don slumped over the table, staring into the grooves of the wood. “I don’t know,” he told me truthfully. “I did everything I could. It was pretty bad in there. I could smell the infection as soon as I took the bandage off.” He shook his head. “This is all my fault. You were right Leo … as selfish as it sounds, I’d let the invasion take over the world, before I’d let this happen again.”

“Mike wouldn’t have a chance unless you were here now,” I reminded him. The words of Master Splinter echoed in my head. I often made the mistake of underestimating the capabilities of my brothers, and so I repeated Sensei’s lesson to him. “Mikey’s spirit is strong, don’t forget that. It’s up to him, now.”

“Well, that a boatload of antibiotics.” He dropped his look to the table again.

I stood to leave. Before I did, I laid a heavy hand down on Don’s shoulder. Neither of us spoke. He reached up and gave my hand a quick squeeze, in silent thanks. I walked out after that, catching the sound of his fingers tapping on the keys of April’s laptop. 

I took the stairs back to Mike’s room, where I knew a fitful sleep awaited me. As I lay on the cot, listening to his shallow breaths, I reflected. It was times like this I was reminded of my many roles as leader. Protecting my brothers doesn’t always mean standing up for them in battle. It is also my job to make sure morale remains high, and to see that they don't lose hope. I might not have been happy about Don’s decision to throw himself into the hands of a known enemy, but I didn’t want him to beat himself up about Mike. He was especially protective over Mikey (I suppose we all were, in a way… comes with the territory of being the youngest) and I know he never would have put Mike in danger on purpose. What was done was done. Besides, I’d meant what I’d said. If Mikey pulled though, it would only be thanks to Don’s nimble fingers. 

The next day brought a small bit of hope. A message came in from Hun at last, though it wasn’t exactly the answer I was waiting for. He said he’d located the guys responsible for pulling the job, but they weren’t talking yet. He assured me that they would. I felt my spine crawl a little at the implications of that, but it wasn’t any of my concern. All I cared about was getting Raph back. It did mean that we’d probably have news of him soon, though. I was eager to get back to the city, but we couldn’t leave Mike. I considered going alone and leaving Don at the farmhouse (he was better suited to care for him), but I couldn’t bring myself to leave my little brother. I decided to wait one more day. I called Splinter and filled him in and then I went out for a few hours, to walk the woods and be alone with my thoughts. I knew whatever was coming was going to be a trial, and I needed a clear head.

**\----------------------------------**

“Hey. You’re not as pretty as my last nurse.”

It was late in the morning on the second day, when Mike finally came to. “Mikey!” I gasped. “You’re awake!” I kneeled by his bed. “How are you feeling?”

“Um.” He looked around groggily. “Everything hurts. A lot.” He blinked a few times. “How long have I been out?”

“A few days,” I told him. “Just take it easy, you’re going to be fine. You took a bullet to the leg, it got a little nasty.” I couldn’t contain my relief. I leaned over and hugged him. “We were really worried about you, little brother.”

We separated and he grinned wide, looking much more like his old self. “Aw shucks. I’m getting all emotional here.” He pulled the covers back slowly, taking a look at his thigh. “Bullet, huh? Feels like I took a cannonball.” He started picking at the bandage to get a better look.

“I wouldn’t mess with that. Don’s not going to be happy if it gets infected again.”

Mikey snapped to attention immediately, giving me the puppy-dog eyes. “Donnie! He’s here? Is he okay?” 

“He’s fine, really,” I reassured him. I stood up and went to the door. “Donnie!” I shouted down the stairs. “Get up here, Mikey’s awake!”

Don bounded up the creaky wooden steps a second later. I didn’t think I’d ever seen Don so happy in my life. “Mikey!”

“Oh my god, Donnie.” Mike reached out and Don came over to hug him. Mike pulled him so tight it almost knocked him off his feet. “Dude I thought you were a goner.” He sniffed hard. “I seriously thought I would never see you again, man.”

Don grimaced, looking over at me. I hit him back with my best ‘told you so’ expression. Regardless, it was a happy reunion and it felt good, watching the two of them. It lifted a small cloud off of us it seemed, and I felt just a little bit better about the road ahead. He eased out of Mike’s grip. “Yeah, uh … there’s a lot we need to fill you in on. Unfortunately there’s not much time to catch up. Leo and I have to head back to the city ASAP.”

“You goin’ to get Raph?”

He shifted his eyes at me. Something was off about it. What was he hiding now? “Yeesss … yes. Eventually. We don’t know where he’s at yet.” He patted Mike on the shoulder. “But we’ll find him, don’t worry.” 

Mike let out a huge yawn. “That’s cool. I’d join you but then I’d miss out on all this pampering. You think April will gimme a sponge bath if I ask?”

“I wouldn’t push your luck,” I said. Mike’s eyes started to droop but he looked good; worlds better than even twenty-four hours ago. Don said the blood loss would make him fatigued for a while. I went downstairs to let the two of them catch up. I saw April and told her the good news. She was ecstatic of course, and left to take him something to eat. 

I stood on the front porch, looking over the long, winding driveway and thinking. There was a light breeze and I could hear the rustle of it through the many trees around us. The effect was calming, but my thoughts were troubled.

Don joined me a few minutes later. “His fever’s broken, the meds are doing their work,” he let out a happy sigh. “I think the worst of it’s over.” He paused there, starting at his feet. 

“Something on your mind?” I asked. I knew that there was. I also knew that I wasn’t going to like whatever he was about to say.

He looked me straight in the eye. “I think we should go and take out the hive.”

“What, now?” It was crazy. I looked at him like he was crazy.

He nodded. “The kill switch code we took? It always had a time limit on its usefulness.” He tried to explain. “Standard protocol procedures in any high-security situation dictate that once compromised, the network be scrubbed. Any offending logins are red-flagged by automated bot, then scrutinized by live admin and back-checked against their own archive.” 

“Donnie, English.”

“I mean,” he said, “they’re eventually going to find out that someone stole the code. When they do, they’ll reprogram it, and what we have will do no more good than jamming a fork in the port.” He paused, staring off into the countryside. “It might already be too late,” he muttered.

“And you didn’t think to fill me in on this until now?”

He gave me a guilty look. “I didn’t really have the opportunity …?” He knew it was a weak defense. “Okay, okay. I knew you weren’t going to be happy about it. But listen. Mikey’s going to be okay, I think. April knows how to change his dressings and as long as he keeps taking the antibiotics he should be fine. He’s in good hands.”

I couldn’t be hearing him right. “Let me get this straight,” I said. “You’re suggesting that we not only put hundreds of miles between us and Mikey--who is definitely not in the clear, Don--but that we also abandon our search for Raphael just so we can go back to fighting this pointless, stupid war.” I ran a hand over the top of my head with a sigh. “I mean, you’re talking about breaching the Hot Spot, right? The four of us together couldn’t even get close, how do you think we’re going to get in there with half the team missing?” 

He put a hand to his chin, thinking. “Well … the hive is underground, but the building that leads to it is like any other. I say we go in through the top and work our way down. The upper floors should be free of bugs … I think.” 

This was getting better by the second. “Well that’s just great. You want the two of us to go into bug central, to input a code that might not even work, on the shaky premise that you don’t _think_ we’ll run into eighty-thousand of the creepy-crawlies on the way in there. Solid plan, Don.” 

He frowned at me. “Hey, I’m open to suggestions. But the bottom line is, we have to try the code before it’s too late. There’s too much at stake not to!” 

I shook my head. When Don wanted to get this code, I was under the assumption that we’d try and hit the hive once we were a full team again. This was ridiculous. Mikey wasn’t even fully conscious yet, and Raph … Raph could be in serious trouble. Every minute we wasted doing anything else was only putting him in more danger. It felt like we were gambling with his life. 

“Maybe … maybe I could go.” There it was. I knew this was coming and it must have shown, because he started in with his explanation, almost as if he had the whole speech planned. “You can go back and focus on Raph, I’ll take down the hives. Look, all I have to do is get inside, find the right terminal and initiate the sequence. Once it’s started it can’t be stopped. The chambers will fill with gas and that’s it, it’s over! Leo, it’ll be a cinch.” 

“Oh is that all,” I said, rolling my eyes at him. “And you don’t think a multi-tiered, top secret operation like this won’t be heavily guarded? The place is probably crawling with G-men.” Not to mention crawling with all sorts of other things.

He stood a little straighter. “I think I proved that I have what it takes to successfully infiltrate government property on my own. I was doing pretty well on my solo mission before you showed, thank you very much.” 

Solo mission? What, was he taking notes from Raph now? “Just because you’re all tanked up on the adrenaline of poking around inside one lab doesn’t mean you’re ready to go cracking into every facility on your own. This is incredibly reckless, Don. I can’t even believe you’re suggesting such a thing! Again!” I paced a few steps. “What about Raph, huh? You’re just going to turn your back on him?”

He looked hurt at that and I immediately felt bad for suggesting it. “Of course not. But if we don’t act on this, it won’t make any difference.” He sighed, picking absently at a peeling paint chip on the porch railing. “I’ve been going through the notes I gathered. The numbers they have aren’t adding up with what we know is really going on out there. I found documents forged, masking the numbers of the population explosion. Someone at the hive facility is trying to cover it up--why, I don’t know, but the results could be catastrophic. By my own projections? They’ll be across state lines in as little as a month.” His voice was raising in pitch. “Leo, you’ve seen what these creatures have done to the city, imagine what will happen when they spread? If new nests begin to form? If their numbers become too great, we’ll never be able to stop them--and it’s already happening! The blockades are starting to fail … parasites are infecting more people … it’s snowballing, and this right here,” he said, holding up the wrist with the data drive, “is the only means to stop it!”

I couldn’t hear this. I couldn’t let him convince me. “No. No, this is a human problem, we let the humans handle it. Family comes first.” It came out sounding harsh, but I didn’t care. I wasn’t about to abandon Raph to go fight the bugs some more. It just didn’t make sense … did it? I concentrated my breathing, trying to find my center. Was Don right? What was the right course of action here?

“Human problems are our problems, Leo.” He wasn’t going to let up. Donatello was definitely stubborn when it came to something he was sure of, and this was no exception. A little more quietly, he added, “Maybe you forget that we have human friends, also.”

“I didn’t forget. And I consider them family.” I tried one last time. “They’re safe right now. But Raph--he’s out there, in the hands of our enemies. Do you have any idea what they might be doing to him?”

“Yeah, I do.” Don’s tired expression mirrored my own. I didn’t need to say these things out loud. Of course he’d been picturing the same terrible scenarios that had been running through my own head. “Don’t think for a second that I would be suggesting this if it wasn’t of the utmost importance,” he said. “Considering what’s at stake, I also know Raph would never want us to make this kind of sacrifice for him.” He begged me. “Look. One evening, you and me. We’ll get in, get out, and go right back to looking for him, I swear.”

Get in, get out. It sounded simple. I wasn’t worried so much about losing a few hours, I was more concerned that the two of us would run into trouble. With one brother bedridden and another missing, we two were all that was left, and now I was going to throw us right into another fire. This was a poor plan at best. I gave Don a long look, trying to weigh it in. He did seem sure. Master Splinter once told me that I sometimes don’t put enough faith in my brothers’ opinions. A good general leads his men; a great general allows his men to lead him. I didn’t always side with Donnie, but I did trust in his judgment the most. 

“Alright,” I said. “We get in, we get out.”

“Then we find Raph.”

I nodded and repeated it back, as if it were an oath. “Then we find Raph.”

**\----------------------------------**

We prepared as much as we could. Don armed himself with one of several spare bos he kept at the farmhouse. Convenient, but since his and Mikey’s weapons were easy to manufacture by hand, Sensei had taken them there years ago to teach them exactly how to do that. Other supplies were limited. Don wanted to go to the lair to gear up first, but I wouldn’t hear it. I was already set against this entire mission; the last thing I was going to do was waste more time. Besides, I still had various grenades and tactical equipment left over from what I’d brought with me. I thought it would be enough. It was a decision I would come to regret.

We waited until nightfall was approaching and then Casey once again chauffeured us as far as he was able. Even so, he couldn’t get the van very close to the northern blockade and that meant we had a lot of ground to cover on foot. We hit the tunnels right away, again in full stealth mode, bypassing the firefight around the border. Every so often a blast would rumble the streets above, raining dirt and pebbles down on us. We circled around the eastern side and started easing west towards our destination. Our encounters with the bugs below were few overall, but when a run-in with a group of large, horned beetles almost took one of my hands off, I decided it was too dangerous to continue. 

We headed topside just south of the Bronx zoo, a couple of miles from the Hot Spot, or what was now the hive. As soon as I emerged from the manhole, I froze in total shock. The amount of bugs up here was mind-blowing. The area was absolutely infested with them; they scurried along the streets, they filled the air. Homes were decimated, bugs spilling out of the broken windows and doors. The noise of them was everywhere, a constant hum of wings and skittering of feet. The whole scene was unreal. I felt like I’d stepped into one of the apocalyptic horror movies Mikey was so fond of. 

I heard Don draw in breath beside me. It was too dangerous to stay in one place too long. “Let’s move,” I said to him.

This area, like most of the outer boroughs, was more residential and the buildings spaced in a way that didn’t allow for us to leap between the rooftops. Not that it would have been much safer. Still, there was no choice but to stay street level. We again picked our way through the shadows, trying to stay as invisible as possible. I took the lead, creeping through the terrain, sticking and moving as wave after wave of them poured from every crack and corner. I became paranoid at every opening, every hole, expecting them to ambush us at any second. It was grinding my nerves to powder. If we survived this, Raphael wasn’t going to be the only one with a hatred for insects.

Finally, Don put a hand to my shoulder. When I turned, he nodded at a large, square structure across the street. The building was four stories, white and weather stained. Bars covered every window. It looked old and had an institutional feel to it, much like a school. Or a prison. It was a good front, I had to admit. If I didn’t trust Don, I never would have believed that there was really a secret facility hidden beneath the place. I held up one hand, signaling him to hold position. I watched the sky, waiting for the clouds to pass back over the moon. When they did, we hurried across the street and hugged the opposite side. We tried the closest door but found it locked; no big surprise there. While we debated the best entry point, I heard the familiar sound of hundreds of feet coming towards us. Centipedes, dozens of them, and as large around as a basketball, spilled up from a street-side grate and descended on us. 

“Up here!” I shouted, leaping from one exposed air conditioner to the next, until I made it to the top. The roof was mostly bare except for a few vents, leaving us completely exposed. I turned to offer a hand to Don. “Careful, they’re in the skies up here!” We ducked down as several monstrous yellow and black wasps buzzed by overhead. They didn’t seem to notice us, but the flies did. I sidestepped just as one of them, a huge, triangular-shaped beast, tried to bite my head off. I turned and sliced one of its wings, dropping it to the roof where it flailed and buzzed angrily. 

This was crazy. I couldn’t believe I let Don talk me into this. “Donnie, watch out!”

I leaped and swiped both swords together in unison, cleaving another one of them in two just above his head. Fly guts showered onto him with a wet _splat._

“Ugh!” He swiped a chunk off the top of his head. “Thanks. I think.”

We took down several more, until the asphalt was littered with squirming, buzzing bodies. When there was a break in the assault, I turned to Don. “We need to get inside,” I said, between breaths. We both peered over the edge. The ground below was moving. No going back that way. “Window?” I asked.

We searched around the perimeter until I found one with rusted bars. “Alright, lower me down,” Don said. I grabbed him by the ankles and eased him over the edge. I heard him struggling with the bars, leveraging his staff against the metal. I tried to keep watch, nervously looking over my shoulder, expecting to be attacked at any second. He shifted suddenly and I heard a _pop_ as the bolts on the bars gave way. A second later I heard the sound of glass breaking, and then more smashing as he swiped his staff around, eliminating the jagged pieces from every edge. “All clear!” he shouted.

I hoisted him back up with a grunt. “Did you get a look inside?” I asked.

“Not a good one. There’s movement in there, but not a lot. The whole floor is wrecked,” he said. “I’m guessing the rest of the building will be the same, until we get underground.”

I nodded. We entered and crouched, blinking, letting our eyes adjust to the added darkness. I did sense movement right away, but it only turned out to be several oversized cockroaches. We made quick work of them and headed for the hallway. Don pulled out the small flashlight he’d lifted from Bishop’s lab and began reading signs on the wall. “Over here!” he said, and I followed him to the stairwell. When we reached the bottom floor, we began searching for the entrance to the underground facility. At first, we didn’t see anything out of the ordinary. Much like the top floor, this one was a disaster. Desks, chairs, books and other debris littered the place. We started tossing aside furniture, searching for anything out of the ordinary. 

He called me over a few minutes later, shining the light onto the floor near a bookcase. There were marks, scratches from where it had been moved away from the wall. We pulled the case outwards and sure enough--there was a door hidden behind. He pulled a lock pick from the lining of his belt and set to work. A minute later there was a _click_ and we were in. I moved to take the lead again.

“Leo, wait.”

I turned. He looked unusually anxious. “What’s the matter?” I asked.

“I’ve been thinking about something ever since we came in here. There have to be people here, keeping the operation on task. Since I don’t see how anyone could be coming and going, then I assume anyone involved must be living on site for the duration.”

“So?”

“So, if the plug should have been pulled by now, then what happened to them? Someone has to be here, because according to the files I retrieved, reports were still coming in on schedule.” 

“What are trying to say, Don?”

He bit his lip. “I … don’t know. I’m just not sure what we’re going to find down there, is all.”

He was scared. He didn’t want to admit it, but Donnie was getting cold feet, a little bit. As ninja, we prided ourselves on having nerves of steel, but after witnessing the horrors of the last few months--and especially the last few hours--even the most steadfast of warriors would find themselves wavering. Even me. Not that I would admit it either, though.

“Donnie, listen,” I said. “You were right. I thought I had seen the worst of it, but this …” I looked off towards the windows, shaking my head. “I’ve never seen such carnage and destruction first hand. I made an oath to this clan, but we all made an oath to protect the city. I forgot that, but you didn’t.” It was true. Another lesson from Sensei, I sometimes put my own goals, namely, to protect my family, ahead of their own individual codes of honor. I had to remember that we were a team, and even with members missing, we fought as one. “This is our home. No matter what we find down there,” I told him, “remember--nothing will keep us from our objective. The lives of everyone here depend on it.”

That seemed to do it. He stood straighter and gave me a firm nod. I clapped him on the arm. With a half-smile, I said, “Now come on. Let’s go save the world.”

**\----------------------------------**

Save the world. That one was Mikey’s; one of his favorite exaggerated sayings, that is. Every time we battled something big, whether it was going up against an army of Foot or taking on a citywide riot, he’d jump at the chance to compare us to comic book heroes. If Don was right about the bugs breeding out of control, then it wasn’t really so much of an exaggeration this time. Mike was probably going to be a little jealous that he’d actually missed out on the real thing for once.

We made our way down a long, sterile flight of stairs to a set of double doors at the bottom. I gently pushed one open and looked through the crack, waiting a few moments. When I didn’t see or hear anything, I gave Don the signal to move, but to stay close behind me. We entered a long, dim hallway. There were lights on, but it looked like several had burnt out and hadn’t been replaced. There were windowed doors at intervals on either side. I looked into the closest one and saw various forms of equipment, not too unlike the rooms I’d seen in the other lab, while looking for Don. There were differences here, however. I saw glass broken on the floor. Beakers overturned. A chair on its side. Checking a few of the other rooms revealed them in a similar state. 

I was starting to get a very uneasy feeling. I pulled my swords. “Stay on your toes,” I said over my shoulder. 

We continued down the hallway at an easy pace. I could detect the soft hum of motors somewhere, but that was all. Nothing I recognized as the movement of people, and the farther we went the more I didn’t like it. Something was very wrong here. Closing in on the end of the hall, I noticed something on the floor, reflecting the light above. It looked like a puddle of water. 

As Don and I approached, I could see the liquid was coming from underneath a set of doors off to the left hand side. I tried to get a look inside the room, but the glass on the door was clouded, as if something were fogging it up from the inside. When I looked back at Don, he was inspecting the puddle. He stuck one end of his staff into it and raised it, pulling the gunk up with it in long, slimy strings. He gave me a dubious look.

I’d had enough. It was time to find out what was going on in this place.

I swung one of the doors inward, looking inside. It was hard to see. There was light, but not much. I squinted and stepped forward. Right away I was taken by the air in here. It was moist, humid, and smelled bad. A second later Don was stepping in beside me, trying to avoid the stuff on the floor. I blinked a few times, attempting to get my eyes to adjust, looking for a light switch. I heard a dripping sound coming from somewhere, but before I could investigate, I heard something else.

It was coming from Don. He had one hand pressed over his mouth, hyperventilating, his eyes bigger than I’d ever seen. I followed his gaze upwards. 

I rarely use such language, but if any situation called for it, it was this one. “Holy shit,” I whispered. There, stuck to the ceiling in a mass of webbing and gunk, were the bodies of a dozen humans or more. As we watched in terror, several of them moved, clawing out weakly towards us. 

“Look at them! Look at their clothes! It’s the scientists, the people who worked here!” Don grabbed me, shaking me. “We have to get them down!” I hesitated a second, unsure. “Leo,” he yelled at me again, “cut them down!”

I leaped, swiping along the side of the nearest one. The webbing tore slowly along the edge and a woman began to slip out. I sheathed my swords quickly and caught her under the arms just as she toppled downwards. Her head lolled from side to side, and then raised slowly to look at me. Her face and arms were covered in sores, scabbed and oozing with pus. Her eyes were a gelatinous, milky white. “Protect the queeennnsss …” she hissed at me. Suddenly she lunged, snapping her teeth at me like a rabid animal.

I shouted in surprise, tossing her to the ground. She grabbed my ankle and tried to bite me again. I kicked her, sending her skidding backwards through the slime on the floor. Above us, the others were going crazy, writhing and moaning. 

_“… protect the queensss … the queeennss … protect …”_

They continued to chant it over and over. I stared, horrified, backing out of the room. I grabbed Don, who was frozen in place, and pulled him out with me. Out in the hallway, I backed up a few more feet, never taking my eyes from the door. When I had my wits back a little, I shouted, “Donnie what the hell was that?” 

“I-Infected,” he stuttered. “Has to be. Some kind of parasite, but I’ve never seen a-anything like it …”

I could still hear them wailing inside. “Let’s get the hell out of here,” I said, heading for the doors at the end of the hall. 

Still shaken, we eased our way into the next hallway. I moved a little faster now, wanting to put as much distance between us and those … things, as I could. Poor souls. Such a terrible fate. There was nothing we could do for them now, though. We rounded a corner and I heard something. I held my hand up, signaling Don to stop and listen. 

Voices. They were close.

I quickly opened a nearby door, thoroughly checking the ceiling this time, and ducked inside, motioning Don to follow. We crouched, listening. A minute later, we heard them.

_“… queeensss … protect the queens …”_

A group, shuffling by, chanting the same mantra. I stared at my brother in disbelief. Don looked a little pale. Suddenly, his face changed, as though he’d thought of something. He reached down and grabbed my ankle, knocking me backwards on my tail.

“Don, what the--”

He was turning my foot over, inspecting it. “You didn’t get bit, did you?” he whispered. I shook my head no and he breathed a sigh of relief. “Don’t let them bite you,” he added.

Giant, monstrous insects and now zombies? This was insane. I felt like pinching myself to make sure this wasn’t some nightmare. I shook it off. I had to stay on point, here. The group was far enough now; I opened the door a crack and made sure it was safe before we continued on. We didn’t even make it fifty feet.

“Look out!”

The door to my right burst open. I dodged, kicking one back but the other tackled me to the floor. I dropped my swords in a panic and grabbed onto him, but it was too late. I turned my head, bracing for the bite.

I heard a _thunk_ as the teeth bit down and felt wood against my cheek. A second later Don gave the man a hard kick, knocking him off of me. He extended a hand, helping me up. “I owe you one,” I told him.

We heard footsteps running behind us. “This way!” Don shouted, running for the opposite end of the hall. 

“Where are they coming from?” I asked. “How do keep finding us?”

“They’re communicating with each other,” he said. “They have to be.”

I didn’t understand. “What, with their minds? How is that even possible?”

“Not with their minds,” he explained. “Through other senses--smell, touch, sound. Pheromones and allelochemicals, most likely. You and I wouldn’t be able to pick up on it, but they’re essentially talking to each other by the release of certain chemicals. Probably sound too, that might be why they keep repeating themselves.” 

Right. It was an insect thing. I remembered Don telling me something similar months ago, when I was inquiring about the nature of the “aliens” invading the city. It seemed a lifetime ago now. 

We burst through another entrance and I turned, just catching a glimpse of them before shutting the doors. I shoved a sword through the handles, locking them in place. There had to have been a hundred bodies or more on the other side, and what’s more, some of them looked … wrong, different from the others we’d seen. I hadn’t been able to get a good enough look to say exactly what it was though. Like they were carrying things. Maybe weapons?

They hit the doors hard, pounding and yelling from the other side, rattling them, but the sword held. I hated to leave it behind, but I had no other choice. 

“Leo, look at this.” He pointed to a sign on the next set of doors.

 

RESTRICTED AREA  
UNAUTHORIZED PERSONNEL PROHIBITED  
RED CARD ACCESS REQUIRED  
THOSE IN VIOLATION ARE SUBJECT TO IMMEDIATE TERMINATION

 

“I think we found the hive,” he said.

It looked like there had been a keycard access to the door at one time, but it had been long since destroyed. The unit was ripped from the wall and wires hung down, exposed and still popping with electricity. The doors were slightly ajar. 

Don and I gave each other an apprehensive look. He stepped up, sliding his bo through the crack. Slowly he pushed the door open. “Celestial spheres of Copernicus,” he breathed. “Leo, you’re not going to believe this.”

I stepped through to another world. We stood on a catwalk, high above a massive subterranean stronghold, covered top to bottom with the same webby gunk we’d seen holding up the unfortunate souls in the first room. Below, I could see dozens of huge, geometrically shaped glass domes, each one housing a single, massive insect of all different species. Looking closer, I could see the domes were filled with eggs. 

“Unbelievable,” Don breathed. “I’ve never seen anything like this. The years it must have taken to construct such a thing … the genome sequencing alone is light years beyond anything I thought possible--”

“Don! You can admire it later,” I said. “Let’s get this over with.” Before we could get started though, something caught my eye. “Get down!” I hissed, pulling him with me.

People, if you could call them that. There were two of them, dragging a third up the catwalk towards us. I looked around frantically. Grabbing Don, I shoved him in the opposite direction, pulling him behind a series of large tubes nearby. From our vantage point we watched. These did not look like the people we encountered earlier. The two men in charge had the same glassy look, but instead of sores their bodies sprouted grotesque appendages; hairy and clawed at the tips, like the legs of a large insect. It clicked--that’s what I’d seen before barricading the door. The insect parts stuck out from them haphazardly, from arms, torso, legs--a clump of sharp bristles sprung from the top of one’s head; the other had a bulbous clump of eyes where his single human eye once was. They were utter monstrosities. The man they were dragging however, had none of those characteristics. He looked normal, save for the fact that he was visibly stunned, as if he were drugged or something. I did however, notice a large wound on his neck. 

As we watched, they dragged him past us. We flattened against the wall and thankfully went unnoticed. At least, that was what I thought. A few feet past where we were hidden, they stopped. They stood still, as if listening. I held my breath. There was no way they could hear us, we weren’t making a sound, unless …

One of them began to sniff the air. They were communicating with the others, just like Don said. I looked at my brother and saw he was thinking the same. Well, there was no sense in waiting for them to find us. We readied our weapons and crept up behind them. Just before we attacked, they got the jump on us. Dropping their cargo to the floor, they turned with inhuman speed, screaming, and lunged for us. I dodged a hairy leg and sliced upwards, cleaving off one human arm and several insect ones. I took its head off in the next blow. Don was having more difficulty. I moved in to assist, cutting limb after limb. His opponent had more arms and it was everything he could to defend against the constant barrage of pointed extremities. I managed to stop one a split second before it buried itself in his neck.

Don snapped his bo outwards for the final blow, driving the end of his weapon through its mess of eyes. Panting, he bent over and retrieved one of the bristled “legs” I’d severed from the disgusting thing, studying it. As he held it up, a stringy ooze dripped from the hooked end. I looked again at the small, circular wound on the third man’s neck, the one lying on the ground unconscious. “Guess we’re even now,” Don said to me, forcing a smile.

I kept my voice low. “What is all this? What the hell happened here?” 

Don had his hand to his chin in thought. “I wondered why they were cocooned,” he said. “Some kind of gestation period before turning into … that.” He nodded at the things on the ground. “I’ve read all the case studies,” he went on. “There have been eight different species of parasite discovered to have infected humans, all with different characteristics. Some can get into the brain and screw with different functions there, but I’ve never seen this. It’s like complete and total mind control. And the physical mutations …” He shuddered visibly. 

I stared at the infected man on the ground. “Is there anything we can do?” 

“Hm.” He thought on it for a second. “Probably not. The very definition of a parasite means that the host is slowly destroyed in the process. Maybe if I could get one back to my lab for study--”

“Forget I asked,” I said, cutting him off. I stood up, checking our surroundings. “Where do we go to input this code of yours?”

He looked over the edge of the railing, studying the layout. “I see a few stations below. One of them has to be able to initiate the sequence.”

We picked our way carefully down the nearest set of stairs to the lower floor. Standing there on the same level as the domes was even more staggering. They were easily three stories high or more, and in some cases, so were the queens inside them. They were all here: fly, centipede, wasp, spider, beetle--and more. Everything we’d encountered in all of these months, they’d all been created here, birthed by these awful creatures. I urged Don to hurry.

**\----------------------------------**

“There! I’m in!”

He tapped furiously at the keys. We’d managed to sneak into the main terminal, a rectangular room lined with tall, thin rows of supercomputers. Fortunately, we hadn’t been spotted getting in. As a matter of fact, we hadn’t seen any more infected in here at all, something I was very suspicious of. Don didn’t seem too fazed, though. “I didn’t see any other entrances to this room. It’s likely there was only the one, especially given the top-secret nature of this place,” he explained. “What I’m more worried about is that door holding. They might be infected, but remember what I said about them reporting in to the guys at the other facility? They’re not mindless.”

As if on cue, we heard a loud, metal _bang,_ followed by footsteps, tons of them, hitting the catwalks. I gave him a sour look. “You just had to go and say it, didn’t you?” He shrugged at me. I armed myself. “I’ll hold them back,” I shouted, “just hurry!”

I ran out the door, reaching into the grenade pack. I pulled out one of the heavier explosives and ripped out the pin, lobbing it upwards onto the next level, close to the entrance. It landed with a direct hit, right in the middle of the highest concentration of them. With a loud _boom,_ the catwalk blew to pieces, sending bodies everywhere. It was a good blow to their numbers, but there was still far too many for me to contend with alone. This was much more than just survival--a single prick of one of those pointed appendages would infect me as well. I tried not to think about it. Whatever happened, I could not let them get past me. I had to defend Donnie until he was done. I managed to lob two more grenades before the first wave reached me. I held my sword high, steadied myself, and met them head on. 

It was a losing battle from the start. I was far outnumbered, and I couldn’t give up my position or they’d get to Don. This went beyond the mission. Donnie was cornered with no other escape out of that room, and I wasn’t about to let them get to him. I found myself going on the defensive and relying more on the explosives than anything. The grenades were definitely making a difference, but it wasn’t enough. Surrounded, I struggled against a woman covered in what looked like armored plates, placed in odd ways over portions of her body. She had a single, black claw emerging from her back. It clamped around my only remaining blade and we were locked, pressing against each other as I struggled to free my weapon. The others were closing in. In desperation, I reached into the grenade pack once more.

Empty.

This was it. I raised my free arm in a powerless defense, bracing myself as several hooks bore down on me. Just then, an alarm began to sound throughout the facility. Every living thing paused in its tracks. The next thing I knew, a wooden staff was smashing its way around me, clearing enemies. I wrenched my sword free and threw a kick into the clawed woman, sending her off her feet. I turned and Don was there. We stood back to back, facing the crowd. “Good timing,” I said, breathing hard. 

“I think we’re back to you owing me again,” he joked. 

We fought them off for another minute or so, until something strange happened. It was a noise, coming from the domes. I managed to catch a glimpse and saw the glass clouding, filling with the gas Don said would end this whole mess. It was the last time, on this horrendous outing, that I would feel hopeful. 

The queens seemed to understand what was happening. They began to screech and howl, making an awful sound. The infected froze. As if of the same mind, they all turned and ran for the glass cages, their wails adding to the horrible din. As Don and I watched in horror, they threw themselves against the glass over and over. The structures being too thick for them to do any real damage, they only succeeded in leaving bloody imprints on the outside until every last one of the remaining infected lay dead in a heap around their beloved queens. I had to look away. Such a horrible fate, and yet I didn’t know which was worse; to die, or to live as passenger to a parasitic force. I wished them peace. Perhaps their souls would find it, now that they were free. 

In any case, it was over now. We’d stopped the invasion. The city would finally be at peace. I looked over at my brother. Don was watching the queens, writhing in their glass prisons, perhaps to make sure the gas did its job, I didn’t know. He was sometimes a tough read. His mind constantly turned in ways the rest of us couldn’t understand. I thought I knew what was troubling him, though. He spent every moment seeking knowledge, and while I joked about his mad scientist tendencies, the truth was, he pursued that knowledge for the cause of good. Whenever we encountered things like this, when science went awry and was put to malicious purpose, it affected him. He saw it as a colossal waste. 

Don also thought too much on the complexities of life, and while his was a more analytical approach to my spiritual, we were a lot alike in that respect. We had seen too many innocent casualties over the course of this conflict. It was a bittersweet end to it all. “Don?” I said, still having to speak above the alarm, which continued to echo throughout the chamber. “It’s over. Let’s go home.”

He didn’t look at me. His eyes were fixed on the domes. “It’s not over,” he said.

A loud hammering sound was cutting through the blare of the alarm. I turned to see what Don was looking at. Several of the smaller queens had already succumbed to the gas, but others--the largest of them--were in a panic. As we watched, the first of them burst through the glass and escaped, making a beeline right for us.


	5. Chapter 5

_“Donnie! Run!”_

It was a bad decision. I realized it right away. I’d opted to draw their attention, instructing him to circle around and try to find a way out. With the catwalk blown to bits, there was no going back the way we came. Instead, our only way out was through the tunnels. There were numerous stainless steel doors, similar to what you’d find on a garage, circling the outskirts of the room. When we’d first entered this place, Don had pointed them out to me, saying that was how they released the hatchlings into the tunnels, and into the city beyond. Each dome had an identical opening, sealed tight now, with a retractable passageway leading to the doors. I had to stop Don at that point again from geeking out over the design, or we never would have made it this far. 

The scorpion queen was enormous, easily a story high or more, and heavily armored in plates of black and red. At first I’d faced off with her and held my ground well. I’d chosen to keep her focus on me and sent Don off to do his thing, to see if he could crack open one of the doors leading out. The problem wasn’t so much that I was fighting a massive, clawed, stinging nightmare but that when she burst through her cage, she’d brought dozens of her offspring with her. As I dodged her attacks, I found myself having to keep from tripping over a floor filled with them; I couldn’t even see the tiles beneath my feet, there were so many. Instead, I focused on leaping off their backs one by one, while impaling the occasional one where I could. Even so, the little ones (which were the size of bulldogs, and not so little) were just as fast, and I could feel my legs burning with the many welts from their stingers. I hoped that the venom wouldn’t be enough to affect my ability.

The queen’s tail was astonishingly fast for such a large thing. I dodged left and right as it came smashing down on both sides, trying but failing to slice the barb off of it. Between that and the two giant, snapping claws, I had my hands full. I kept trying to steal a look at Don to gauge his progress, worried that the other cages might not hold. Worse yet, the gas from the busted scorpion cage was now entering the space we were in. The room was huge and the gas might not stay on long enough to fill it, but I wasn’t about to stick around to test that idea. We had to get out of here. 

It was the door opening that caught their attention. 

I heard the metal slats rolling up and knew my brother had come through again. To think, I felt happy when I heard that sound. I took my attention away for just a second, to look--that’s when the claw came around, belting into my side and throwing me off my feet. I landed hard, the wind knocked out me. The next thing I knew, I was covered in scorpions, overrun by a wave of them scrambling to get out, converging on the only escape from this place, which also happened to be exactly where Don was positioned. And if all of that weren’t bad enough, I heard another, and unfortunately recognizable, sound: glass shattering. 

I knew what I was going to see even before I made it to my feet. There was only one other queen still moving, the largest of them. I pushed myself upwards in a frenzy, shoving scorpions off of me even as others were crawling over them. I grabbed the tail of one, ripping it out of my arm where it had stuck into me and tossed it the entire beast aside. I was getting tired, but whether it was due to the battle or the stings, I couldn’t be sure. I stood, and finally I got a look at my brother.

One bad decision could turn a battle. I knew this, I planned for every eventuality because of it, yet I knew that even the best strategy could fail. As a rule it was impossible to plan for every outcome, but I would not accept that. I had made it my life’s study to have the ability to do exactly that thing. I still made mistakes though, and I knew right away where I’d gone wrong: I never should have split us up.

“Donnie! Fall back!”

I kept screaming at him to run, to get out of there, even as I ran full tilt towards him. I’d had my hands completely full fighting the scorpions alone; now Don was trying to fend off attacks from them and a new addition--a colossal praying mantis. It was easily twice the size of the scorpion queen and just as fast.

I kept running it over in my head as I approached. I should have stayed closer to him. I should have defended his position. I thought drawing them away would be better, but I could hear the mantis queen slamming against the glass. Why didn’t I see this coming? Why did I not assume that the door would draw their attention? I kept my eyes trained to Donnie. He was backing up, trying to dodge their attacks, but it was too much. He was being assaulted on all sides; the razor claws of the mantis coming down from above in tandem with the swiping claws of the scorpion; the scorpion’s tail stinging with a mind of its own. Even as I watched, I saw the mantis sever his staff in two, leaving him utterly defenseless. 

I wasn’t going to make it. My hand went to the grenade pack on instinct, forgetting momentarily that I’d used the last of our supply in fighting the infected. If only I’d saved a couple. Even a single well-placed explosive would have been enough to stop one of them. I ran, ignoring the broken glass cutting my feet, ignoring my fatigue, pushing to get to him. I had to get to my brother. 

The mantis was closest to me. I came up behind it, diving at the last second and swiping my sword in a wide arc, severing one of its back legs. It screeched with an awful sound, but I’d gotten its attention. It turned to face me, its head twitching robotically from side to side, sizing up its next attack. A claw came down impossibly fast, smashing to the tile where I’d been just a second before. I rolled and sprung up with my free hand just in time to miss the second claw. One after another, the barbed ends of its long arms jabbed at me, and I knew I wouldn’t be able to keep up the pace long. I had to try another approach. 

I ran around it in a circle. It turned with me, but not fast enough. I dove between its legs and skidded onto my shell, getting beneath it. With every bit of strength, I drove my sword upwards, into its belly. It screeched again, backing up and away. Furious, it snapped its claws out again and again, enraged and in pain, striking at the air wildly. It backed up into the wall and turned. Ducking its slender neck downwards, it squeezed into the dark opening of the tunnels and disappeared. 

I picked myself up, woozy now--there was no doubt anymore that the scorpion stings were having an effect. It didn’t matter. I fought it with everything I had, advancing on Don’s position, needing to get there. I could see he was in a similar state. His movements were slower, the timing off. He was exhausted and also covered in welts from the smaller scorpions, most of which who’d now abandoned their monstrous mother for the tunnels as well. It snapped at him again, nearly taking his leg. He stumbled, and fell. The stinger reared up again. 

“Donnie!”

He heard me and got his hands up in time, holding the two pieces of his staff high above his head and blocking the thing’s tail. There they sat struggling for several seconds before the inevitable happened; the scorpion’s tail flicked in a rapid motion, burying its stinger deep into the meat of Don’s shoulder. He let out a terrible scream. 

_“Donniiieeee!”_

I got there just as it was retracting, the barb so large it was pulling Don along with it, right off of the ground. He hung limp and dangled from it, the severed pieces of his staff falling from his hands onto the dirty tile with a clattering sound. 

I sprung upwards, bringing my sword down with both hands, slicing the end of the beast’s tail off in a single hit. I barely registered the meaty sound of Don falling back to the floor before the thing’s pincers swung around at me. I dodged, putting myself between it and my brother, determined to end this quickly. It jabbed at me again, but I was ready. I leaped on top of the wide claw and brought my sword around again, slicing the appendage off at the joint. It squealed, retreating backwards but I didn’t want to lose the advantage. I ran at it while it was stunned, leaping onto its back. It tried to sting me unsuccessfully with its wounded tail on instinct, which did nothing more but shower me in the disgusting gunk it was dripping with. The creature bucked like crazy, and I stood on the thick, smooth plating fighting for my balance like I was at the rodeo. I crouched instead and grabbed at the rim of the closest plate, steadying myself. With a yell I drove my sword downwards, through its head, twisting the blade. It thrashed a few more times but I held fast. Finally it crashed to the ground. It was over.

I freed my sword and ran towards my brother. He’d already pulled out the stinger and I couldn’t believe the size of it. He was sitting, one hand planted over the wound. I moved behind him without a word and peeled away his hand, inspecting the damage. It had gotten him in the back of his right shoulder, just under the ridge of his shell. The wound alone was enough to contend with, but right away I knew it was going to be worse than that. 

I dug into his satchel without asking, grabbing a roll of bandages. “Leo the gas … we have to get out of here,” he said. 

“You’re bleeding a lot. I have to wrap this up first.” He sucked air in through his teeth as I pulled back the flayed parts of his ruined shoulder, stuffing it full of gauze. A quick wrap job and it was as good as it was going to get. I took a look at our escape route. I could still hear the screeching of the mantis queen echoing back at us, almost taunting in its defiance to remain alive. I circled around to the front of Don. “How do you feel?” I asked. I laid a hand on each of his shoulders, careful of the wounded one, and studied him, checking his pupils, wondering just how much poison a stinger like that could deliver. “Be straight with me. Are you poisoned?”

I could already see the answer in his face. “Venom,” he said between breaths, “not poison.”

“Donnie!”

“Scorpion venom is … not typically lethal,” he said, his breaths coming harder by the second. “Common misconception.”

“Don it was a giant, mutated monster! There was nothing typical about that thing!” He tried to answer but it was getting the better of him. I helped him stand. He swayed suddenly and I reached out to catch him, thinking he was going to fall. Instead he bent and vomited on my feet. Oh good, I thought. This was getting better by the second. I was back to thinking that this whole thing had been a bad idea, but there was no time to regret our course of action now. I grabbed Don’s good arm and swung it around my neck, pulling him towards our exit. 

We ran as fast as we could, as cautiously as we could. I was concerned by what we were going to encounter in the tunnels. This was still bug central, and just because we’d taken down the hive didn’t mean there weren’t thousands of them still out there. The mantis queen seemed to be clearing a path for us, though. I wasn’t sure if the smaller bugs were scared of her or giving her the tunnel out of respect, and I didn’t care. All I knew was that we weren’t going to waste the opportunity. We followed after her until we’d put a good amount of distance between ourselves and the hive. 

After we’d run at least a mile, Don stopped dead in his tracks, bent, and threw up again. I couldn’t see his features in the dark, but when he finished he sounded almost ashamed, like he’d done something wrong. “I can’t go any farther, Leo,” he said. I had studied poisons and Don knew it. He could be very sick, or, his organs could be melting one by one. We both knew there was no sense in lying to each other. “Whatever happens to me, it’s too late now. You’ve got to take down that queen! She could start another nest … in an uncontrolled environment … can’t … can’t let it happen ...” 

He was sounding worse by the minute. “And what, leave you here? Are you crazy!”

“I’m alright,” he said. “We’re far enough away … from the gas. Over here.” He tugged me towards a small, diverging tunnel maybe twenty feet deep and sealed on the end. There was moonlight shining in from a grate above. I helped him sit down underneath it, trying to get a look at him in the slotted beams of light. 

“It’s not safe here!” I tried again. “This place is infested, there are bugs everywhere!” 

“Leo, please.” He was shivering all over, uncontrollably, even though it was the middle of July and muggy in the dampness of the sewers. “If you don’t, then all of this … what we did … is for nothing.”

Dammit. I didn’t answer him. I stood and looked at him long and hard, making sure this is what he really wanted. I reached back and grabbed the hilt of my single sword, tearing it from its sheath, never taking my eyes from him. A second later I broke into a sprint, leaving my brother, my wounded, poisoned (envenomed, I could almost hear him correcting me again), brother behind while I chased down another one of these damn bugs. 

As I ran, I kept chanting it in my head: _don’t die, don’t die …_ don’t die until I get back, at least. I didn’t want him to die alone down here and the thought of that happening was too awful to bear. I tore through the sewers at top speed, heading straight for the sound of the mantis queen. Don was right. Once I put her down, it would bring an end to the entire mess. And I intended to end it. With a vengeance.

**\----------------------------------**

It would be easier to fight her down here, I was sure. There was little room for her to maneuver, but plenty enough for me. I didn’t want to waste any time trying to take her by surprise. I just ran as fast as I could, my muscles screaming at me with overuse, my blood also filled with trace amounts of scorpion venom. I put my mind past it. I had to do this, and I had to do it as quickly as possible.

It didn’t take me long to overtake her. I was skilled at blind fighting and could hold my ground well even without a speck of light, but fighting a monster of this size would not be the same as going up against the average enemy. Lucky for me, there was no need. Visibility was low, but there was just enough ambient light shining in from the full moon above to give me her outline. It was more than enough for me. A lifetime of living underground and operating out of the shadows had given me better than average sight while in them. 

She of course heard me coming and shifted around to meet me head on, struggling to do so in the cramped tunnel. I bared my teeth like an animal. I was operating on pure adrenaline now. I tried a varied approach. The entire tunnel in front of me was claws, with mantis behind them. I had to get around them, to get to her vital points. As soon as I was close enough, I hopped up, running along the side of the tunnel wall for a few steps. I launched off the stone, driving my sword forward, trying to get a shot at its head. It didn’t work. It swung a long arm in the way just in time, causing my sword to ricochet off of its thick, green armor. I fell back, dodging in time as the claw smashed down. I tried to counter, using its lowered arm as leverage, vaulting off of it and making for its head once again. Again, the other claw came around too fast, knocking me back. 

I landed on my feet, breathing hard. We traded blows for a while, until I backed off a moment to consider my options. This was taking too long. I reached to the strap across my chest and slid out two shurikens. I snapped my wrist outwards and they flew; one hitting it in the torso, the other in the fat part of its left arm. It didn’t even seem to faze the beast. Its armor was just too thick for small projectiles. I was losing patience quick, but forced myself to swallow it. It wouldn’t do any good to lose my cool now. How many times had I said the same to my hot tempered brother Raphael? Only through the serenity of one’s mind, will the battle turn in one’s favor. 

I felt a quick pang of loss at the thought of him. How I wished he was here with me now, fighting by my side. For all of our arguments, Raphael was my second-in-command in battle. Where we couldn’t see eye-to-eye on a lot of things, we fought together like were born to. In a way, we were. Our mutation was a rebirth, a new life, and one given to the study of martial arts. Fighting was what we did best together. Or, as Mike would often joke, the only thing we did together, both on and off the field. 

What would he say, if he saw me now? Abandoning Donnie, to fight this horrid thing? Even if it was what Don wanted, would he have done the same? When it came to looking out for the others, Raph and I were really equals. It was a known fact that he could have been leading this team, were he only better at controlling his mental state. 

Raph. Wherever he was, I hoped he doing better than we were.

The mantis queen advanced on me suddenly and I pushed those thoughts aside. I had to get my head back into the fight. Whatever he might think of my decision, Raph would want me to end this and get back to Don as soon as possible, and that was what I intended to do. The mantis was on the offensive now, darting claw after claw outwards, pushing me back the way I came. It had an amazingly long reach, making it impossible to get close enough for a solid strike. The arms themselves were too thick to penetrate, and the joints too far up its body for me to reach. I had mistakenly thought that it would be at a disadvantage in such a small space. I could see now that it was just the opposite.

I sidestepped another blow but didn’t make it in time. The arm smashed into my side, driving me into the stone wall of the tunnel. Stunned, I shook my head, unprepared for the next attack--it lunged suddenly, knocking me backwards onto my shell and pinning me down. This was bad. I gripped its arm, trying to shove it off my chest, but it was too strong. With mounting dread, I struggled, watching as its head lowered towards me. In the dim of the light, I could just pick out its mandibles, splitting into three ragged, sharp points. They were coming right at my face. 

I had to think. Instead of shoving its arm off, I gripped underneath it and slid downwards, scraping my shell along the grit of the sewer. I kicked upwards just in time, hitting it in the side of the head as it closed in. It screeched, the sound piercing in the close quarters, but I stayed calm. My sword arm free now, I swiped it around, severing one of its front legs. It screamed again and toppled. I pushed forward, rolling beneath it, slicing off the leg on the other side. Too top-heavy, it crashed head first into the ground. 

I stood and gripped my blade with both fists and drove it downwards, impaling it between the eyes. I planted my foot on its neck, tearing the head free. I held it up just a second, watching as its mandibles twitched their last. Panting, I unceremoniously flicked my blade outwards, freeing my sword from the disgusting thing. It was over. 

Finally, it was all over. 

I looked back down the tunnel, the way I’d come. “Donnie,” I said out loud. Without hesitation, I tore off in that direction, pleading in my head with the powers that be: please. Please let my brother be alive.

**\----------------------------------**

Out of breath, I rounded the corner where I had left him. He was lying on the ground with his back to me. He wasn’t moving. I fell to his side and grabbed him, sure I was too late. Right away I could sense signs of life and the relief I felt was so great I nearly fainted from it. That feeling wouldn’t last long.

“Oh god Leo, it huurrts …” he moaned. He was lying in a fetal position, his arms crossed tight across his abdomen. 

I couldn’t believe how much worse he looked. My heart sunk. He wasn’t going to pull through, I just knew it. “Where?” I blurted. “Where does it hurt?”

“Be easier to ask … where it doesn’t,” he said, trying a laugh a little in spite of it. 

I squeezed his arm. I’d had my own personal experience with venoms and poisons. There were some, even in small doses, that could make you feel as though your entire body had been set on fire. “Just hold on,” I told him. “I’m going to try and get us out of here.” I went for my phone and paused. There was a time when we had allies here, when I had people to call. But with our friends and family scattered, I wasn’t sure what to do. I could call Splinter, but he was out looking for Raph. At our last check-in he was following a potential lead somewhere near Prospect Park in Brooklyn. With the military blockade it would take him hours to get to us; he might not be able to make it until morning. Plus, how close could he get? This place had the highest concentration of bugs, both above ground and below. I could hear them scurrying in the tunnels all around us and it only made me more uneasy with every passing second.

Retching sounds broke me from my thoughts. Don was throwing up again. I grabbed his shell and helped him turn over so he wouldn’t choke, then sat him up when he was done just to be safe. He was still conscious at least, but I could tell he was really suffering; so much so that he was fast losing the ability to speak. I leaned his back against the wall and sat down next to him. I was exhausted and finally feeling the fatigue of my own tainted blood. Looking at Don I could see just as many welts all over his legs. He was pumped so full of their venom that I couldn’t even believe he’d held out this long. I wrapped one of my arms around his shoulders and left it there, keeping him upright and steady. 

“Donnie … don’t die,” I said. “Please.”

So that was my great plan. Beg my brother not to die, because I couldn’t do anything for him. What could I do? Topside was a mess in this area, full of soldiers and bugs. Even if I could get Don up there, then what? You couldn’t get a car though the ruined streets. The tunnels were a marginally better route (at least there were little to no humans down here), but we were easily ten miles from the lair and there was no way I could carry him that far before we’d be overrun by bugs.

Maybe this was it. Maybe all I could do was sit here with him and wait for the end. Or, maybe we could sit and ride this out. His body might purge the toxins in a day or so, maybe enough so that he could walk again. Maybe we’d get lucky and the bugs wouldn’t find us here. 

It was a lot of maybes. I hated not having a clear picture of the road ahead. I needed a better plan than this. 

I checked his bandage. It was already soaked through red and a small stream was running down, pooling into his shell. That wasn’t good. Even if the venom didn’t get him, if we lingered here too long, he might just bleed to death. So much for waiting it out. I searched through Don’s minimalist pack, but there was really nothing in there that could help. And I’d talked him out of stopping to get more supplies. Don always brought too much stuff, more than we ever needed on a mission. I’d assumed this would be the same. Better to have too much, than too little, he always said. 

I was so tired. “I’m sorry, Donnie. I should’ve listened to you. You knew we were unprepared. We should have gone to the lair first, like you said.” One brother miles away, bedridden. Another here, dying. The last one MIA … maybe already dead. Some leader. I couldn’t believe how badly this was all turning out. I thought about going topside to scavenge for first aid supplies, but I’d already left Don once and I couldn’t do it again. He was completely defenseless. As if to prove the point, I heard the skitter of feet in the main tunnel, followed soon after by more of those long, squat centipedes. I covered Don’s mouth to stifle his gasps and grunts of pain. They kept moving, without seeing us. 

As soon as I relaxed my hand, Don reached up and grabbed it with his. It was clammy to the touch. “D-don’t be … sorry,” he said. “Never thanked you …”

“Thanked me … for what?”

He leaned heavily against the wall, his head dipping to the side slightly. He seemed strangely calmer all of the sudden. “Coming to ... rescue me. Finding Mike. Killing the … mantis.” He tried to smile. “Stopping the invasion … saving the world.”

“The world, huh? I still think that’s an exaggeration,” I said, forcing a smile back. “I think Mikey’s rubbing off on you too much.”

“You’re … gonna find … Raph too.” His breaths were coming shallow, now. “Tell Mikey … tell him I’m sorry again … that I got him hurt.”

“Donnie, stop,” I said. This sounded too much like a deathbed speech. What was I doing? I couldn’t let this happen. Sensei is often fond of saying that Raph and I butt heads because we share an equal measure of stubbornness, but there are times when that stubbornness pays off. This was one of those times. I decided right there: I was not going to accept this. I swore to protect my brothers to the end and I sure as hell wasn’t going to stand by and watch one of them die here in these bug-infested sewers.

I began by controlling my breathing. I closed my eyes, I steadied my mind. I channeled my Chi. In a few moments I could feel strength returning to me, if only a little. I pushed on. Pictures began to form in my mind, visions, abstract and indecipherable at first. I concentrated harder. I heard sounds, like roaring, and then the image came together: it was a motorcycle. Raph’s bike?

Raph’s bike!

I’d stashed it not far from here, when I’d first come north looking for Mikey. Of course! How could I have forgotten? I pulled my phone, checked the map and sure enough--it was less than a mile northwest of here. That was it, our ticket home.

When I tried to move him, I found out why Don seemed calmer before. The neurotoxin in his system was beginning to have a paralyzing effect. His right arm below the wound was completely unresponsive, and it was starting to spread throughout that side of his body. I also knew this of venoms and knew something else--if it reached his lungs, he would stop breathing. There was no time to lose. Fumbling a little, I managed to hoist him onto my back. All we had to do was make it a few blocks. The bike was chained up in an abandoned lot, or at least I hoped it still was. We made it as far as we could through the tunnels before attempting to go topside. Luck was on our side; we saw a few bugs but I managed to duck into hiding before they detected us. Above ground would be another story. 

Getting Don up the ladder and out the manhole was a chore, but I managed. When we got to the top, I set him down for a second between some parked cars so I could assess the situation. What I saw just made me angry. I could almost hear Raph muttering it in my ear: turtle luck.

The tall buildings surrounding the overgrown lot were covered seven stories high in thick, white webbing. Spidermen. Out of all the bugs we faced, they were the worst. They were fast, unpredictable, and it was hard to see them coming. I didn’t detect any right then, but I knew that didn’t mean anything. They had a tendency to hide in their nests, before jumping out like--you guessed it--a spider after its prey. 

I heard a groan from Donnie and knew I had to weigh my options quickly. I thought about taking a car again but wasn’t sure if we could get around the city with it. You really didn’t want to reach a dead end and have to turn around, because you never knew what would be on your tail. Plus, no one used cars except for the military; anything else would stick out and we’d be pulled over for questioning in an instant. No, it had to be the bike. The bike was fast, much more maneuverable, and could be ditched easily if need be. The question wasn’t really how I was going to get to it, because I was fairly certain that I could jump on and peel out before I was attacked. The problem was, how was I going to get Don on with me? 

I had thought about how to secure him on the way over, so that he wouldn’t fall off as we were riding. I didn’t really trust him to be able to hold on tight at this point. We were just going to have to do those steps first. I crouched down next to him and started removing his elbow and kneepads.

“Hang in there, Donnie. We’re almost there.” He was still breathing, but he acted like he hadn’t heard me. I shook him a little. “Don?” With what looked like a great effort, he looked at me and nodded the tiniest bit. “Okay. Save your strength. I’m taking you home.” 

I sat down on the ground with my back to him. I wrapped his arms and legs around me and started tying them in place. Once I had him secure, I stood, again carrying him piggyback. When I was sure we were ready, I broke into a hard sprint, making a beeline for the bike. As soon as I stepped into the lot, I caught movement within the webs. A lot of movement. I kicked open the chain link gate and that’s when I saw them. Hundreds of them, descending on us from the webs above; horrible, malformed, humanoid torsos atop black, hairy bodies, the bulk carried swiftly on eight legs. They reminded me of a more horrifying version of those horse men you’d see in fantasy movies, centaurs, I think they’re called. They had amazing speed over all types of terrain and I knew that even after I got the bike started, it was going to be hard to outrun them. 

I jammed the key in the ignition and gave it some juice, but the engine didn’t turn over. I tried again. Nothing. I didn’t want to look, but I couldn’t help myself. The Spidermen were nearly on us.

I tried a third time, cursing at the stupid thing. “Come on you piece of--”

The engine came to life. I gunned it and tore out of the lot, just as I felt the first of their human hands claw at us. We pulled away and out of its grasp just in time, but it didn’t stop them from taking up the chase. I could hear the thunderous noise of their legs everywhere, on the street and buildings all around. It sounded like a hailstorm behind us, coming down hard on stone, and glass, and metal. I pushed the bike as fast as I dared. I knew how to ride but I wasn’t proficient at it. If the spiders didn’t get us, I was afraid I might kill us trying to escape them. 

I checked the mirrors and saw them gaining on us. I had to do something. I hit the brakes, skidding sideways, taking a sharp turn to the left in an attempt to throw them off. There was a military Humvee there, gun mounted and gunman wide-eyed in surprise at the sight of us. I revved the bike forward, skirting them, immediately sorry for what they were about to encounter. I heard the _rat-a-tat_ behind us a second later, hoping that the armored vehicle would be enough to protect the unfortunate souls from the hoard of monsters we’d led straight to them. Piggybacking on that thought, I also hoped they would take out a few of them for us. 

That gave me an idea. We weren’t too far from the Harlem checkpoint. I gunned the engine, heading off in that direction, desperate for help, hoping I was doing the right thing.

I could barely keep the bike steady. I found myself skidding more than I meant to; the streets were unpredictable and more than once we nearly crashed into overturned cars and junk in the way. Even so, I surprised myself, pulling off maneuvers that I’d never attempted before. Really, it was more a testament to the vehicle itself. I was by no means a gear head, but even I could appreciate the precision of the custom built device. That was thanks to our engineer, who’d given no small amount of time to crafting the machine. As for him, I could still feel his chest moving, breathing, against my shell. At least I thought so. He was slumped against me, passed out, or as close to as possible. Dead weight against my back. I gunned the engine, concentrating on moving us forward. I knew there wasn’t much at the lair that would help his condition. I just wanted to get him somewhere safe. 

The Spidermen were relentless. One ran along the building to the right and leaped suddenly, trying to tackle us. I evaded him just in time and he smashed into the pavement. Another jumped at us from the other side, with the same result. They were getting more aggressive. I cranked the bike around another sharp bend with a _screech,_ taking a path through a small, overgrown park. It didn’t slow them down. In the mirrors I could see them in the trees all around us, leaping and bounding from branch to branch, after us like they were hungry. Maybe they were; the northern part of the island was all but deserted and I couldn’t imagine what they were eating to survive. I shivered a little at the thought.

Just as we exited the park, I felt something wet and heavy hit my right side. I looked to see white strands of webbing there, disgusting, but not too much of an issue. They hit us with a few more shots and I cringed at the sticky warmth of the stuff, trying desperately to keep it off my face and out of my eyes. The last thing I needed was to lose visibility at this speed. We came to the end of the street and I had to slow down to make the turn. It was there that one of them finally hit its mark.

It cut the corner and ran alongside us. The next thing I knew, it was grabbing Donnie, trying to rip him off the bike. I hit the gas trying to shake it but the thing somehow hung on, using the ridge of Donnie’s shell as an anchor point, threatening to pull us both off. The bike wobbled as I fought to correct it, all while trying to balance with the added weight. I couldn’t slow down or the rest would overwhelm us. I had to think fast. I glanced at the mirror on that side and saw its black, needled teeth snapping, biting at Don, trying to get past his shell into something it could sink its fangs into. Slipping the last of my shurikens from the strap at my chest, I held it like a dagger and threw my arm backwards, impaling the vile thing in the side of its head. It fell back, screaming, tumbling over and over onto the street behind us. 

I steadied the bike once more, feeling a little more confident. I was beginning to get the hang of this, I thought. As crazy as it sounded, I was starting to understand the attraction to driving the thing. It did take a certain finesse I hadn’t previously been aware of and I promised myself, if we made it out of this, that I would concede that fact to Raphael. 

Ahead, I could see army vehicles. Finally, the checkpoint was coming up. I hoped the soldiers there would realize we were not a threat, though I knew how risky this plan was from the beginning. We didn’t exactly _not_ look like aliens ourselves (at least in the eyes of the humans) and there was a chance they might just open fire on all of us. I had never seen one of the bugs operate a vehicle however, and hoped they would consider that before shooting. Also, funny enough, the webbing covering us would probably work to our advantage, hiding our features somewhat. Either way, we were out of options. There were just too many of them and I knew from previous battles with the things that they would viciously pursue us to the end.

I rounded the last curve and saw it: a mobile army unit stationed on top of what used to be several baseball diamonds, now surrounded by barbed wire and lined with army trucks. Men stood at the gates holding rifles. There were more stationed up high, sentry units on towers overlooking the area. I had a straight path and went for it, pushing the bike as fast as I could, driving directly alongside the checkpoint. I saw men raising their guns and braced myself. This was it.

Gunfire erupted and I grit my teeth, expecting them to blow Don and I full of holes. A second later I realized that we were not only spared, but the Spidermen were under full assault. I heard their terrible screams behind us, saw them turn their attention to this new threat, and knew my plan had worked. To my relief, they were dropping by the dozens amongst the burst fire of the men’s rifles. I didn’t wait around to watch. I kept on towards the direction of the lair, weaving in and out of streets and alleys, checking the mirrors as often as I dared. After a few minutes we managed to shake the last few and I didn’t waste any more time. I headed directly for the garage.

**\----------------------------------**

I pulled into the alley and cut the engine. I sat there for just a second, catching my breath. We’d made it. We were home.

The ties had come loose in our escape, but the knots held enough to do their job. I slipped Donnie’s hands and feet free and caught him before he fell off the seat. I dragged him to the wall and set him down against it. I said his name a few times, but there was no real response. His eyes were open but unfocused, clouded over. He wasn’t really there. I’d already called Splinter when we were in the tunnels and knew he was on his way. There was nothing to do now but wait for Sensei to arrive. I stashed the bike quickly and dragged Donnie inside.

I set him up in the infirmary and made him as comfortable as I could, before tending to his shoulder. I knew how to clean and suture and we had all the necessary items. It didn’t take long. He never moved once.

When I finished, I dropped into the chair next to him, utterly drained, both physically and mentally. For the second time in less than forty-eight hours, I was taking watch over one of my brothers, waiting to see if he would survive through the night. It made me suddenly anxious to check in on Mike, but it was the middle of the night and I didn’t want to wake April and Casey. I supposed it could wait a few hours. 

Donnie’s eyes remained open, blinking slowly with a zombified look. His chest rose and fell in wheezing breaths. I wondered if he was in a lot of pain. I laid a hand down on his forehead for a moment. His eyes moved slightly, his pupils shifting in my direction. So maybe he was still aware after all, just unable to move or communicate. Paralyzed, though not entirely. He still shifted from time to time. He was still breathing on his own. If his condition was peaking, he might pull out of this. I offered encouragement, hoping he was able to hear and understand. I wanted to keep talking to him, but it was hard to find words. I talked about Mikey some more, about April and Casey and our brief time at the farmhouse. I told him about searching the city with Sensei and shared my miscalculation in trusting one of Hun’s girls. I told him that his lab was a damn mess and it had taken me hours to find anything in there that I could use. I shared with him how hard this had been without him to plan with, without Raph to back me up, and without Mike to keep my spirits up. 

We sat like that for I don’t know how long, me talking, him lying still, until I felt a vibration at my belt. I went for my phone and saw it was the disposable. On it was a text message from Hun.

_two shipped up north, sold to a man named John Bishop_

Great. Really could have used that information a few days ago. I waited a moment to see if there would be more. There was.

_the other went to the Foot_

I stared at those words, my worst fear come true. I’d always known this was a possibility from the start, but for some reason I just couldn’t believe it. Maybe I just didn’t want to believe it. 

I messaged back questions. Where? When? What did they want him for? Was there a message to us? He was vague in his answers but gave me what he had. There was no message to us from them, no demands, as far as Hun knew. As for why they wanted him, Hun thought that a good time to joke around with me, saying that he didn’t know, but he guessed it wasn’t to give Raph dance lessons. They’d had him for almost two weeks and were holding him at Foot HQ. 

Two weeks. That would put it around the time Mike and Don had been brought to the waterfront, probably right after they’d split them up. That meant all this time--all the time I’d been searching for city for them, rescuing Mike and looking for Don, waiting at the farmhouse, infiltrating the hive--every one of those days, Raph had been in captivity with our greatest enemy. I buried my face in my hands, rubbing at the temples. It was the worst possible news.

I heard the door and knew Sensei had returned. I wasn’t looking forward to sharing this information with him, but his presence brought nothing but a sense of overwhelming relief to me. If anyone could offer me advice now, it was my father.


	6. Chapter 6

I slid aside the manhole cover, the one closest to April’s shop. In the past, it had been the only place they’d leave a message when wanting to contact us, and Splinter and I had been checking there periodically since my brothers disappeared. Her place looked alright, still intact at least, which couldn’t be said for many places around the city. After she and Casey left, we’d done her the favor of boarding up the windows to the antique store in an effort to keep it from being looted. The wood was stained with graffiti but she would be happy to know that it otherwise looked fine. My attention wasn’t on any of that, though. As soon as I caught sight of her place, I saw what I feared.

A note on the door, stuck to it with one of Raphael’s sai. I ran to it. The note had just two characters on it, the Japanese kanji letters for _revenge._

I tore the note away. I was beyond angry; I was furious. I ripped the sai from the door and stuck it into my belt. I was going to remove the heads from each and every last Foot soldier until I found him. This was not going to go without repercussion--I would find my brother. I would rebuild my team. And then we would show them the true meaning of revenge.

I left, heading back home to consult with Splinter.

**\----------------------------------**

I could always tell when Splinter was angry, even when he was trying not to show it. His whiskers twitched as I handed him the note and he narrowed his eyes. He finished wringing the cloth out in his hands and pressed it to Don’s head, trying to offer him some comfort. He beckoned me away a moment later and we began weighing our options, debating different approaches. Obviously we were walking into a trap. They would probably be expecting us to sneak in, and so we decided to do exactly the opposite, in a way. Misdirection seemed to be the only way to go, but would they fall for it? It was impossible to say. One thing was for sure: this was not going to be easy with just the two of us and I was once again feeling the loss of my other teammates.

I didn’t want to ask this question but I needed to know. “Master, do you think … do you really think he’s still alive?” 

They didn’t need him alive. They just needed us to think he was. The Shredder would have no qualms about dropping his body at our feet once we were there, I was sure. Splinter drew in a long breath and exhaled. “I do not know, my son,” he told me truthfully, “but I do not see any other choice.”

I nodded. It was such a long span of time and I was trying not to think of the things they’d done to him. In the beginning, I’d actually spent a few nights looking in on the Foot, watching them come and go from several of their known bases, trying to determine if anything was out of the ordinary. It was suicide to go directly into their headquarters, especially without knowing for sure if any of my brothers were in there. Besides, it didn’t make sense for Shredder to have them but not tell us. If anything, he would use us to draw out the others, and especially to get to Splinter. I had to wonder at that. Their note had been recent. If they’d had him all this time, why did the Foot wait so long before contacting us?

I didn’t have an answer. We had a bigger problem, and that was what to do with Donatello. We couldn’t leave him in this state, and every minute we spent here, Raphael spent caged up in there. Even Splinter was torn. He retired to his room to meditate on it, leaving me with Don. 

I sat down by his bed. He shifted, staring at me, looking like he was trying to speak. “Donnie? What is it?” I asked. He inched his hand over until his fingers bumped into the sai still hanging from my belt. Damn, I’d forgotten I was wearing it. There was no sense in lying to him. I sighed. “The Foot have him,” I said. His throat was working, straining to make sound. I leaned in closer. 

_“… go …”_

I looked down, shaking my head. Splinter and I decided that it would take the both of us for this mission, but how could we leave Donnie like this? I’d already left him behind once to fight the mantis queen and it had been torture thinking that he might die without me or anyone there. There was no way I was going to do that again. He was safe from danger here sure, but the toxins in his blood were being absorbed into the rest of his body. He could literally expire at any moment. 

He was staring at me, begging me silently. He didn’t have to speak. He’d already made the same argument to me in the tunnels: what was done was done. There was nothing more we could do for him. Raph on the other hand, needed us. I couldn’t do this. I couldn’t make this decision.

_“... pl … ease … Leo …”_

Master Splinter told me that as leader, I would be challenged with making difficult decisions. He also told me that I would have to live with the consequences of those decisions.

I laid a hand down on his shoulder. “I’m sorry, Donnie,” I told him. “Forgive me.”

Less than an hour later Splinter and I were ready. We were fighting the clock, it being just hours from dawn now and we wanted the cover of darkness for this. We packed up what few things we needed and each said our goodbyes to Donnie. It was one of the hardest things I’d ever had to do. “Be strong, brother,” I said to him. “We will return with Raphael, I swear it.”

**\----------------------------------**

I put in a call to April. I didn’t give her too many details, just that we were going after Raph and that it could be dangerous. Then I told her the real reason I was calling. She was understandably upset over Don. I tried to reassure her, but it didn’t feel like I was telling her the truth. I also told her not to tell Mikey yet.

I always have a Plan B. Or a Plan C, D--you can never really have too many exit strategies. The worst thing is to be blindsided. Nothing ever goes a hundred percent according to plan and as ninjas, we are taught to adapt. I have devoted no small amount of time to studying the art of war and pride myself on that very thing, to be able to revise tactics on the fly, to be ready for any surprise. If something happened to us on this mission, I wanted someone to know that Donnie was here and needed help. At the very least, I thought Casey could make his way back here. It was not preferable, but of course that’s what made it the back-up plan. 

I was thinking on this, running scenarios over in my mind, as we ran the rooftops towards the Foot compound. It was an impressive structure, multi-tiered and ornate in a Japanese style which might have looked out of place anywhere but the heart of Chinatown. This was no tourist attraction however, and no one would have guessed that the “rich, eccentric man” who owned the property was head of one of the worst gangs in the city, the deadly Foot Clan. Another trick of the ninja, they were hiding in plain sight. 

The property was surrounded by a high stone wall and under video surveillance. Large, black, engraved iron doors made up the only entrance. I watched from my hiding spot as Splinter hobbled to the front gate, leaning heavily on his cane. The guards tensed as he approached. 

“Stop where you are,” one ordered, his hand on the hilt of his sword. “State your business.”

“You have something of mine,” Splinter said. “I have come to retrieve it.”

The guards looked at each other. One nodded to the other and he moved to open the gate. “Surrender your weapons,” he said. 

“I have come unarmed, save for my cane.” Not content with his word, they set to frisking him. Their search turned up nothing and they began to lead him inside. Now it was my turn. I waited until they were at the building, and then I went to work. I spotted two cameras watching the area around the gate. I was going to have to do this quick and dirty. Literally. I scooped up a handful of mud, wet with recent rainfall, and lobbed it at the first of the cameras. It landed perfectly with a heavy _splat,_ covering the lens. I quickly repeated the action with the other camera, and then sprinted towards the building. They would of course know immediately that someone was coming in behind Splinter, but that didn’t matter. I didn’t need to be invisible, I just needed to not get caught. 

Instead of following Splinter’s path, I circled my way around the back of the building to initiate phase two of the plan. Almost immediately, I could hear commotion, men exiting from the front, no doubt checking on the state of the cameras I had blinded. They would be looking for me now. I had to hurry. I silently took out the two Foot soldiers guarding the back entrance and dragged their bodies from view, tossing a shuriken into another camera posted there. I reached into the small satchel at my hip and went to work. 

A minute later, I was making my way to the main hall. One by one I took out the guards as quickly I could, as quietly as I could. I made sure to move in odd, haphazard directions, never cutting a clear path from one end to the other. I had to keep them guessing. I could hear them after me, trying to move silently, though it wasn’t silent enough for my trained ears. I crept up behind them even as they searched, eliminating them one by one. I utilized every bit of my ninja skill, to the absolute best of my ability. I was never spotted, though I left signs of my presence everywhere I went. I looked for evidence of Raphael on the way, but I was not searching for him yet. I needed to close in on Splinter’s position first. I made it to the end of the wide hall, put down another guard, and slipped into the shadows above. There were rafters running throughout the long room, giving access above a series of sliding doors leading in. It was there, above the final set of doors, where I perched unseen in the darkness, listening in. 

“I will not leave here without my son,” I heard Splinter say. 

“Indeed. You will not leave here at all.” Shredder laughed beneath his mask. “But you are too late, Yoshi. Your ‘son’ no longer lives.”

My breath caught in my throat. Splinter remained calm. “Then I would ask to see his body,” he said.

Shredder laughed again and stood, stepping lightly down the steps from the dais where he’d been seated, approaching Splinter. “You are no fool Yoshi, and so I will not continue the charade longer than need be. Consider that a final gift. I never had any your freakish kin. I did however, hear that you’d lost track of some of your flock, and saw an opportunity.” 

I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. Never? The Foot _never_ had Raph? Was this another trick? My thoughts were moving at light speed. Why wouldn’t the Foot offer to buy him? Shredder could afford it, and he’d surely pay any price. Unless … unless Raph was never for sale in the first place.

Hun. I couldn’t believe I’d trusted him. When I got my hands on that bastard …

“Tell me where my son is!”

I snapped back at the sound of my father’s voice. “Why would I do that?” Shredder said. “How good it will be, to watch you go to your grave without knowing. Tell me rat, do you believe he still lives? Or perhaps he just wishes for death?” He was enjoying this too much. Watching him taunt Sensei over Raphael was infuriating, and my blood was boiling. “You have made more than one enemy in this city. I have an associate up north I hear paid quite well for some of your brood. I imagine they will be quite the contribution to science.”

“My sons are not so easily overcome,” Splinter growled. “Enough of this! If you will not tell me where he is, then I will force it from your lips!” With that, Splinter separated the sword from his cane and flew forward. I heard the _clang_ of metal on metal but I was already busy initiating Plan B, which sadly meant only escape for the two of us. Raph wasn’t here. I knew Shredder was telling the truth. If he had been, the tin can would have paraded him out here in front of Sensei first thing. But what now? Where was he? Did the Dragons still have him? Did they sell him off to another buyer, or …? My brother was reckless by nature. Impulsive. He didn’t like to be caged. He would have seen Mike and Don being hauled off and I know it would have pushed him over the edge. I could see the whole thing play out. Maybe he’d fought back and it had gone badly. Mike and Don knew nothing of him; they were split up almost immediately. 

There would be time to think on it later. For now, I had to help Sensei. I clicked the button on the first detonator, just as planned. A huge explosion ripped through the back of the building, stopping everyone below me in their tracks. 

Splinter smiled, his sword locked in with the Shredder’s gauntlet. “As I said, Saki--my sons are not easily bested. See, as they approach now.”

Shredder growled at his men, ordering them to go and meet this “new threat.” Most of the Elite guard filed out and that was my cue. The second they were gone, I entered the fight. I dropped down effortlessly behind the closest guard, taking him down with a single strike. Right away the others saw and rushed me, eight of them, all Elites. I could have fought them and perhaps come out ahead, but it wasn’t worth the risk of trying, not when there was no reason to linger here. I hit the second detonator and another blast, closer this time, shook the building. A beam on that side collapsed and we were showered with dirt and bits of plaster. Surprised, the Elites froze in place, ducking down and looking from side to side, as if another blast were to follow. There was, but I waited, readying a handful of smoke grenades instead. 

I looked just in time to see Splinter toss a palm strike. It landed with a direct hit to Shredder’s chest, stunning him. Shredder fell back a few steps, gasping for breath, unable to block the next blow. With a flying kick Sensei sent him to the ground and that was my in; with a break in the action I threw the smoke bombs and retreated, knowing that Sensei would follow. We ran through the hall, cutting down foes as we went. Just as we exited the front of the building, I hit the final detonator. This one was much closer to where we were and I had to stop a moment to catch my balance, worried for a second that I’d placed the explosive too close to our escape route. A portion of the structure collapsed in on itself, effectively blocking our escape from the Elites, though there were still plenty of regular soldiers to contend with. We wasted no time. I threw a few more smoke grenades to mask our escape and we hit the wall, up and over, and into the city beyond. 

I knew they would follow us, but I wasn’t worried. At the first opportunity, Splinter and I dropped down below, into the damp tunnels that led to our home. Down there, we would have the advantage; this was our turf, our domain. We separated, splitting their forces, leading them down the twists and turns of the sewers. Chased by half a dozen or more, I turned a corner and leaped, landing on a series of tubes I knew ran up high along this main line. They didn’t see me. I waited until the last one passed by and jumped him, finishing him off instantly. The others sensed me a moment too late, and I took down another three before they realized what was happening. 

I faced the remaining Foot in the dark, eliminating them with ease. These were not as skilled as their Elite brethren and it showed. After I finished off the last one, I went to assist Splinter, only to find that he’d already made short work of the rest. We headed for home, but I could not hide my disappointment. I was relieved to know that Raph hadn’t been tortured for weeks at the hands of the Foot (no pun intended), but now I was met with new concerns. Where was he? How were we going to find him? If we did find him … what would we find?

Splinter patted me on the shell. “A day when one faces one’s enemy and survives is a good day,” he said, adding, “A day one faces one’s enemy and depletes his forces, a better one.” I did put quite a dent in their numbers and I had to admit, knowing how much that would anger the Shredder almost made it all worth it. Still, I couldn’t shake this overwhelming sense of unease. Raph was in real trouble, I just knew it.

“Come,” Splinter said. “Let us hurry home to your brother.”

**\----------------------------------**

We returned to Donnie as we left him, still alive thankfully, yet there was no change in his condition. I was exhausted to the point of seeing things, but I couldn’t bring myself to leave his side. Sensei demanded that I rest but I respectfully declined. He seemed to understand.

Don slept most of the next day, which I chose to take as a good sign, thinking that his pain must have lessened in order for him to do so. I finally gave in and dozed in one of the cots next to him, allowing Splinter to keep watch. That evening, he was speaking to us again; the next day he was able to take water, and the day after that he could sit up on his own. He was still sick and in a lot of pain, but every day he improved a little more and I was hopeful. Communication with the others gave us even better news. Michelangelo was, aside from a pronounced limp, back to normal and beginning to drive April a little bit crazy with his constant need for attention. Passage was still too congested to try and bring him home (a deep sigh from April there, when I said so) and so we agreed it was best he wait it out at the farmhouse for now.

That only left Raphael. With the younger two on the mend, I turned my full attention to one task only: bringing him home.

**\----------------------------------**

I’d followed the car for a few blocks, leaping the rooftops and watching. The unpredictable roads made it much easier to track a vehicle on foot, and when I’d noticed the unmistakable purple colored low-rider in front of one of their dives, I’d waited until its owner left before giving chase. He pulled up to another expensive-looking property, similar to his last one and no doubt acquisitioned the same way. So that was Hun’s new hideout. I didn’t wait for him to enter this time. I dropped out of hiding as soon as they exited the vehicle, cutting down the two bodyguards in a single motion, spearing each through his aortic artery. Their bodies hit the pavement before Hun even turned around.

“Aw hell,” he said, looking at me, then at the two bodies. “I really gotta stop paying these guys in advance.”

“Keep your hands where I can see them.”

He smiled, raising his palms to the air. “Yes officer. You gonna frisk me next?” 

Cute. I wasn’t playing around, though. “You lied to me, Hun. I will ask this only once, and I suggest you be a little more forthcoming with the truth this time, if you value your life. Where is my brother?”

He laughed, but I couldn’t tell if it was only because he was enjoying this, or if he knew more than he was letting on. “I told ya, two got shipped up north, the other got sold to the Foot.”

My patience in general had been running on empty. When it came to dealing with Hun however, it was buried in the red. “The Foot don’t have him and you know it! Now tell me where he is, or I swear to you,” I growled, “I will make it my personal mission to eradicate every last one of your gang--starting with their leader.” 

“Alright freak, pull your panties outta … whatever you got goin’ on down there. I’m tellin’ ya--all I know is what I been told. I never saw the rest of your freak clan. By the time I caught up with the whole thing, they were long gone. And the guys who did the job … well, let’s just say I don’t like business being conducted behind my back.”

Another dead end. Fantastic. “Why should I believe you?” I said.

“From where I’m standing, you ain’t got a choice. Look, Shredder and I might be close business associates, but that don’t mean we’re best friends. I don’t know everything he does. He told me he had one of yours, I had no reason not to believe it.” Except that it was another trap, designed to bring the remaining members of my clan to the Foot’s front door. Say what you want about the Shredder, he knows when to capitalize on an opportunity. I felt a twang of shame, sorry that I hadn’t been able to see through their deception. “I know you probably don’t wanna hear it,” he went on, “but maybe they didn’t exactly hang onto him long, if ya know what I’m sayin’.”

“Shredder admitted the truth,” I spat. “They never had him in the first place.” I raised my swords, getting into a more aggressive position. “Didn’t you question your men? What did they tell you?”

He grunted, laughing a little. “Afraid they didn’t uh, hold out long enough to say. Hey, I put the word out. I even offered money for information, but whattaya know, no takers.” He didn’t have to look so happy about it. I wanted to punch the smile off his face. 

“You seem to not know very much about what goes on in your little organization,” I said. “Which I don’t believe, not even a little bit.”

“Yeah well, maybe you haven’t noticed, but the whole damn place is anarchy. It’s sort of affected business. I ain’t really been able to keep tabs on everyone since all this started.” He gave me another of those smarmy grins. “Maybe you can relate.”

I raised one sword to throat-level, to show him how much I appreciated his little joke. “You’ve been zero help to me, Hun.” I was grinding my teeth. “I ought to cut you down just for the aggravation.”

He looked down at the two men, lying in puddles at our feet. “Yeah well, the feeling’s mutual.” He stood a little straighter. “Look, I can’t help ya. My boys don’t know nothin’. Hell, way Chinga and his crew were talkin’, it sounded like they never got a payout for the third guy. Maybe he got away. You ever consider maybe he just don’t wanna come home to your little shit-den-house-of-freaks?”

I ignored his attempts to rile me. This was going nowhere and we were at an impasse. I didn’t believe him but I couldn’t prove he was in on it. Even so, I owed him nothing. “Our deal is off,” I said, and disappeared into the shadows. 

I could hear his protests behind me as I ran off into the city. I didn’t care. I’d held up my end of the bargain for too long, with nothing in return. That time was over and I’d decided: Dragons were officially back on the menu. Since I was back to square one, I figured it time to go back to where I began in the investigation. Someone had to know something and I was going to hunt Dragons until one of them talked. I formed a plan, thinking of places to hit, of people to corner. I went over my conversation with Hun to see if I’d missed anything, picking it apart and fuming a little at his attitude. How dare he screw with me, implying that Raphael was off on his own accord. As if he would abandon us like that. It was ridiculous, Raphael would never do that. 

So why was I letting it get to me? Maybe because Raph _did_ walk out on us, often, as a matter of fact. Not like this, though. He’d pull the disappearing act for a few days at most, and even that was rare. He’d never go into a situation like this and stay away on purpose. Would he?

No, of course not. I was tired. I was overstressed and these thoughts were the result of that, nothing more. I went home to rest a few hours, but was denied it once again. The moment I shut my eyes I was again pulled into dreams of crumbling teeth and bleeding gums, my tongue cut to ribbons as I chewed and chewed and chewed at what seemed like a pointless, self-destructive endeavor.

When I woke my jaw was sore from having ground my teeth together. Even with my eyes closed, I knew I would not relax. Not until the last of my brothers was safe.

**\----------------------------------**

“Donnie, you’re up!”

We were another week in with no sign of Raphael. After hours on the streets, I’d come home to refuel and found him sitting in the kitchen. It was the first time I’d seen him out of bed on his own. I grabbed a bite from the fridge and pulled up the chair next to him. “How are you feeling?”

“Like I’ve been hit by a truck,” he said with a weak smile. He raised his right hand, wiggling the fingers. “The numbness is starting to subside. I don’t think there will be any permanent damage.”

I relaxed a little against my chair. “Good. Don--I have to admit, I didn’t think you were going to make it out of this one.”

He sipped at his tea. “Yeah well, that makes two of us.” A little brighter, he added, “Still, goes to show you the capability and adaptability of the body, especially when it comes to us. This lends credit to my theory that our mutation gives us an increased immunity to these sorts of things, you know.” 

I smiled. “I’ll believe that when you guys quit missing so much practice due to ‘mysterious illness.’”

He seemed to think it over for a second, before admitting the truth. “And if I were to suggest that maybe some of those illnesses were less physical and more psychosomatic?”

“I’d say you were wasting your breath because I can always tell when you guys are faking it.” I leaned in. _“Always.”_

He chuckled a little, then set his cup on the table and stared at it for a few seconds. His demeanor changed so suddenly, I asked him what was wrong. “Listen Leo,” he said. “Thanks. For pulling me out of there.”

I nodded, a little embarrassed by his gratitude. “You don’t have to thank me. I’m just glad you’re okay. Mikey too.” 

Things got quiet between us there, and I knew he was thinking about Raph just like I was. Breaking the silence, Don said, “Um. Speaking of Mikey, he should be back tomorrow. Master Splinter left a couple of hours ago actually, to go get him.”

“What, really?” 

“Yeah,” he said. “I told Sensei to go. I’m fine, I don’t need you guys to babysit anymore.”

“What about the bugs? It’s still infested up there.” The northern blockade was still in effect, too. It had only been a week since Don and I destroyed the hive and there were still plenty of leftovers to contend with. “That seems like a big risk to take, just because Mikey’s homesick.”

He shrugged. “It’s not just that. Sensei hasn’t seen him since … you know, before everything.” Right. I hadn’t thought of that. It was so difficult to travel between the north and south, and with Raph missing Splinter had been here for days, alone, looking for him. “Sensei knows what he’s doing,” Don said.

He asked me about the search after that. I told him everything I knew, which didn’t amount to much. I’d been pulling the stuffing out of every Dragon I could find, so much so that they didn’t even attempt to fight me anymore. The second any of them saw me coming they turned tail, and frankly I was getting tired of having to chase them down. I told Donnie about my last meeting with Hun, how I didn’t believe him and how Hun had insinuated that Raph was never sold off in the first place. When I was finished, I asked Don for his thoughts.

“Well, I think you’re right not to trust in anything Hun says.”

“What about him not being sold?” I said, not really sure where I was going with this. “Do you think there’s any truth to it?”

He studied me for a few seconds before answering. “Hun said they didn’t get _paid._ That could mean anything.” He dropped his tone a notch. “What are you trying to say, Leo?” 

I wasn’t sure. “What if he escaped?”

He again paused, looking at me strangely for a few seconds. He answered slowly, as if he were explaining this to a child. “Then he would have come home.”

He would if he’d been able to. I kept running it over in my head: _Raphael did not like to be caged._ He would have fought them the hardest. He would have tried everything to escape. Something about this didn’t sit right. Maybe he tried and didn’t make it. Thoughts of him injured, trying to make it home through bug-infested tunnels plagued my mind. How many weeks and months would we search before giving up? Would we ever give up? Or would we start looking for his body instead?

“Yeah. Of course.” I shook my head, trying to clear it. “Sorry. I just keep thinking there’s more to it. I don’t know how to explain it. I can’t shake the idea that maybe he doesn’t _want_ to come home for some reason.” 

“Leo, that doesn’t make any sense.” He looked at me, worried. “When we were still together, he was fighting them, yelling at them, hurling insults … you know, being Raph. All he did was try to find a way to get us all out of there.”

Exactly. He fought them, trying to escape. Yet no one knew where he was now. Maybe I was just losing hope of finding him alive. I didn’t want to continue this line of thinking with Don though, he’d been through enough. I sighed. “I know. You’re right.” I stood to leave. 

“Wait up a second. I think I can help.”

Was he joking? “Don, you can barely move.”

“Hey,” he said, “physical capability is hardly my only asset to this team. Just because I can’t join you topside, doesn’t mean I’m totally useless.” He had something brewing, I could tell. “Do you still have the pre-paid phone you used to contact Hun with?” I nodded, unsure why he was asking. “Give it here. I’m guessing Hun was stupid enough to give you his personal number.” He started scrolling through it. “Dumb thugs don’t even understand the technology they’re carrying around,” he muttered. “I’m going to try and trace this number back and hack into the microphone. Once it’s on I can listen in on any ambient conversation. These mobiles today have made planting audio bugs by hand pretty much obsolete.” 

I was surprised myself. “You can really do that?”

“Of course,” he said, like it was ridiculous for me to even ask. “It’ll take me a little while to set up, but it should work. I’ll call if I hear anything.” 

I told him that was great. Even to this day, Don’s technological prowess never ceases to amaze me. “Don’t overdo it though, okay?” I warned him. “The sooner you’re back on your feet, the better.” I didn’t say ‘because I need the help out there,’ but I was definitely thinking it. I didn’t know what to think about Raph, but I was sure we weren’t going to get to the truth without a fight. I also knew that was another reason Sensei had gone off to get Mikey. If he was healed enough to make it home, then hopefully he’d be ready to join us in the search soon.

**\----------------------------------**

I found myself regretting past arguments, thinking back to petty things we’d gone after each other about. Of course it all seemed pointless now, in hindsight. It wasn’t all regrets, however. I thought about good times, too. Training, sparring, watching movies together. Chasing after the Foot, tag-teaming the new recruits and picking them off like plucking soft grapes from a vine. Raph had always loved going after the rookies; they were so easy to scare. I thought about the past few months, watching as the city was attacked. The expression he made when he learned the city was being overrun by giant, mutated insects. I smiled a little at the memory. _“Anything else,”_ he’d said. _“Anything! Giant robots! Aliens with seven heads! An army of the undead! Why? Why did it have to be bugs?”_

Of course Mikey couldn’t resist capitalizing on the situation. Raph was finding severed legs in his bed, husks perched on the toilet and antenna in the refrigerator, among any other insect parts Mike could smuggle into the lair without him noticing. I stayed out of it for the most part. Mike by far got the worst of it, not that it slowed him down any. I did have a talk with Raph though. He had to leave Mikey intact enough for him to join us in battle, after all. 

It took two days for Mike and Master Splinter to return. We kept in contact all along the way and I wasn’t worried. Apparently Mike was still moving pretty slow, and so they were taking a longer route to avoid as much of the conflict as they could. Since Don was grounded, he divided his time between listening in on Hun and keeping an eye on the news, which was finally beginning to report a decline in alien attacks. If there was one beacon in all of this, it was that our infiltration of the insect hive seemed to be successful. 

I came back home after a call from Don to find my little brother there, looking much better than the last time I saw him. “I’d ask if you missed me, but c’mon--we all know the answer to that.” Mike grabbed me in a bear hug so tight, I couldn’t breathe. I laughed, trying to shove him off. “Dude, Donnie’s been telling me all about how you guys busted up the hive. He’s messin’ with me, though. You guys did not really fight zombies?”

“Yep, you missed out on all the fun,” I said.

He whistled. “I dunno. Kinda glad I sat this one out. I get nightmares from the movies, you know?”

We sat for a little bit, catching up. I tried to stay upbeat when the conversation turned to Raphael, but it was difficult. I knew I was losing hope with every passing day; I just didn’t want that to infect the others.

Mike was still out of commission as far as fighting was concerned, so I told him to help Don out where he could. That was a double-edged sword, because on one hand Don was happy to trade off the duty of wiretapping the Dragon’s conversations (a job he was continuously disgusted by, and said so frequently). On the other hand, it meant he’d be cooped up with Mikey for days on end. I learned a long time ago that it was good to have a group around my more hyperactive brother to bounce him off of. As much as I loved the guy, he was pretty needy in the attention department.

After a brief nap late one afternoon, I woke to Don shaking me. “Got something,” he said, beckoning me to follow him into the lab. He sat at the computer. “They didn’t mention Raph by name, but check out these transcripts. Look what it says right here.” He pointed to the screen. I read the small piece of dialogue there. It looked like a conversation between three people, one of them Hun, the other two Don said were bodyguards. They were asking for the night off to go to somewhere, to some event it seemed like. 

 

Guard 1: You got Rico and Alexis downstairs. They can cover, right?

Guard 2: Yeah man. I haven’t been down yet. Cap said last week they were picking the dude’s brains out of the cage. Fucking crazy. What’s the payout up to?

Hun: Ten grand. Easy money, boys.

Guard 1: Aw hell no. I ain’t trying to get killed, now. I heard the odds are at like, a hundred to one or something.

Hun: (laughter) What can I say, the freak can fight.

 

Freak. That was their favorite word for us. My heart skipped a beat. He had to be talking about Raph, there was no other explanation. 

“I didn’t get a specific address,” Don said, “but I’ve narrowed it down to the Village. Whatever’s going on over there is going down tonight, and it sounds big. I suggest patrolling the area and watching for Dragon activity. It sounds like it’s going to draw a crowd.”

We talked for a while, tossing around ideas. In the end I decided that beating it out of the Dragons hadn’t been working, and so I was going to try a different approach. I started preparing right away.

**\----------------------------------**

I met with Splinter in the dojo and filled him in. I had decided to go solo. It would be easier to stay under their radar that way and Don would be monitoring my progress through a two-way earpiece. In the event that things went south, they would know immediately.

I fixed the scarf to my face. “I will not return without him Sensei. You have my word.” 

“Be careful my son, and good luck.”

We bowed solemnly to one another and I left. On the way out, Mike and Don were both waiting for me by the door. 

“Take these,” Don said, handing me another small pack of goodies he’d put together for me. “And be careful with them.” I nodded and stowed them under my sweatshirt. 

As I said my goodbyes, I made sure to sound confident. I was anything but. As hopeful as I was that this was it, that I was about to find my lost brother, the bad feeling I’d been harboring since the disaster at Foot HQ was only increasing. There was no explanation for it, but I could not shake my unease. Either way, I’d sworn a promise to my family and I would not let them down. No matter what was waiting for me in the Dragon’s den, I was determined to make good on that promise.

**\----------------------------------**

A small drizzle earlier in the night was now pouring rain; not uncommon for this time of year. I didn’t mind. It only worked to my advantage, making it a good night to wear heavier clothing.

I pulled my hood over a little farther. I was crouched on the lip of a rooftop next door, three stories up and watching the basement entrance to some sort of club, it seemed. Every time the door opened I could hear heavy, rock music. I watched dozens enter, almost every one of them sporting emblems or tattoos of the Purple Dragon Gang. There was a single bouncer at the door; he was bald, mustached, and fat. Piece of cake. I leaped to the other building and peered over the edge, now directly above the door and its doorman. I heard cheers erupting from inside. I had a feeling that whatever was happening, the show was about to begin. 

When there was a break in guests, I started scaling the wall down. When I was close enough, I tossed my distraction--one of Don’s noisemakers, a small, non-lethal (and luckily waterproof), explosive--behind the guard a few feet. As soon as he turned, I dropped down silently and slipped in through the door. The easy part was over. Now to blend in. I was covered well, from head to toe. Around my face I wore a purple paisley bandanna, which I hoped looked natural enough, as I’d seen some of their gang wear them on occasion. Inside, the place was packed. I stayed close to the wall and circled around, trying to take in my surroundings. The lighting was dim, another thing in my favor, but it did little to ease my edginess. I was literally surrounded by enemies here, and if anyone caught wind of who I was, I was done for. Going incognito also meant no swords. Of course I could fight without them, but not effectively enough to take down large groups of people. I had to stay invisible on this one. 

The room I was in was a basement space, very large with two bars and a stage on one side. The stage, which looked like it hadn’t been used in some time, wasn’t where the crowd’s attention was. Instead, everyone’s eyes were on the center of the room, where a large, octagonal steel cage sat. Oddly, one side of it connected to a door in the far wall through a long, caged hallway, cut off from the rest of the space as if whatever was behind that door must be some kind of wild animal. As I took in the details--the padlocks, the strange hallway, the fact that the cage was covered on all sides, including the top--the awful realization began to set in. I watched as money exchanged hands. I heard bets being placed on the “champ,” and men laughing about it. So this is why Hun didn’t sell him. I couldn’t believe how angry I was. I had to stay cool though. And I needed to formulate a plan. 

A cheer from the crowd brought my attention back to my surroundings. There was a short, older man at the octagon, unlocking one of the padlocks barring entry. A large, shirtless Asian man covered in scars and Dragon gang tattoos stepped through the crowd and entered, amongst more cheering. The old man immediately shut the gate and replaced the padlock. The fighter inside, easily over two hundred pounds of lean muscle, strutted around for a few moments, his eyes fixed on the door at the far end. 

The old man next went towards the end of the caged hallway. He undid another set of padlocks there, grabbed the side of the metal, and slid the whole thing over like a boxcar door. I shifted position, trying to get a look, but the room inside was too dark to see into. A minute or so went by. The crowd was a frenzy of yelling and catcalling, insults and foul language. I held my breath, not knowing what to expect. Would Raph be okay? I couldn’t imagine him doing this, fighting for their amusement, made to dance for them. His pride would never allow this; he was so stubborn he’d refuse at the cost of his own life. Something still didn’t seem right. The noise from the crowd intensified. Finally, he emerged. After weeks of searching, worrying, sure I would never see him again--there was my brother Raphael, and looking pretty good, all things considered. That was somewhat of a relief, after what I’d been through with both Mike and Don. If I could just figure out a way of getting him out of here, we could be home before sunrise. 

He walked through the hallway at an easy pace, ignoring them, head high, face expressionless. They screamed at him, spit on him and threw drinks through the cage, yet amazingly Raph didn’t react. I could feel my own blood getting hot, my adrenaline surging with contempt at these lowlifes, for treating him in such a way. How the hell was Raph keeping his cool? 

He continued to the octagon and stopped, waiting. A bell rang, and the show began.

I tried to give Don a rundown on what was going on, whispering into the small mouthpiece beneath my bandanna, but it was difficult to relay anything through the noise of the crowd. He put it together easy enough. We’d already speculated on what was happening based on the conversation between Hun and his men. I couldn’t see any way of getting to Raph in this situation though. At best, all I could think to do was return here after the event was over and try to break him out. In the meantime, I held my position and watched.

Right away, Raphael went on the defensive and stayed there. Strange, because I didn’t see anything special about the guy he was fighting. It almost seemed like he was trying _not_ to fight him, which I guess shouldn’t have surprised me. Of course he wouldn’t jump through their hoops. Or so I thought. I was about to find out how very wrong that was.

After several minutes, the Dragon finally landed a right hook, stunning Raph just enough to get him against the cage. The man, easily a foot and a half taller and much heavier, threw his weight into my brother and crushed him into the side of the octagon, the makeshift fence bowing outwards with the pressure from his shell. They struggled there, Raph pulling at the arm across his neck, trying to free his windpipe from the man’s hold. That’s when everything changed. A terrible, furious scream erupted from Raphael, unlike anything I’d ever heard come from him before. He tore the man’s hands from him and launched himself forward, knocking the Dragon off his feet. They fell to the floor and I couldn’t see what was happening through the crowd. All I could hear was Raphael, screaming like a beast over the crazed roar of the men surrounding me, cheering as the fight raged on. Something was terribly wrong. I had to get to him. 

I pushed my way through until I was close enough to see. What I saw there didn’t make sense. Raphael was straddled over the top of the man, pummeling him without mercy, his fists dripping with blood. He was yelling and spitting like an animal. The man on the ground was not moving. 

I felt the gun barrel press into the nape of my neck a second before I heard the click. Its owner leaned in and spoke into my ear. “Whattaya think? We trained him pretty good, huh?” I whipped around to face him, a lean, scarred man with long, greasy looking hair. Every eye was on us, and several more guns were already out and pointed at me. I was caught.

“Hun said to keep an eye out. Said one of you guys would figure it out sooner or later.” I sensed movement behind me and dodged in time to evade the first hit. The second connected with the back of my head. My fists shot up on instinct and I turned, trying fiercely to defend. Dazed, I managed to block the next attack--this one from a wooden bat--with my forearm, which luckily didn’t shatter the bone but did knock me off balance. I blocked two more punches from different angles but a third connected, again striking me in the head near my temple. It blurred my vision. I tried instead to use my other senses, but the blows to the head were interfering with my ability. I dropped low, sweeping my leg, trying to get at least one of them off their feet. It didn’t work. I was tackled from behind, flattened to the floor by several bodies. I wrapped my arms around my head and neck in desperation but it was too late. Outnumbered and pinned to the ground, blows rained down on me until it was lights out. 

I drifted in and out, barely aware that they were stripping me of my gear. I caught just small bits of conversation, unsure if I was imagining it or not.

“Where we taking him?”

“Hun said toss ‘em in with the other. Probably won’t last the night in there.”

I heard laughter. I saw a door slide open and I was thrown to the floor inside. Before blacking out again, I just had time to wonder: were they putting me in with Raph? What did he mean, ‘I wouldn’t last?’ Sometime later, I started to come around for good. My first thought was that I was in a small, grey room, imprisoned. My second thought: I wasn’t alone.

I blinked a few times, trying to focus on him. Right away I realized how wrong I was before. He didn’t look fine at all. Physically, not so bad; he was covered in small, taped up cuts and bruises, what you’d expect from someone fighting on a regular basis and not really so much different from any other day in our lives. No, it was in his look. He didn’t look right; and as I lay there, trying to get my bearings, it started sinking in. He’d been here for weeks, made to fight, not knowing what happened to any of the rest of us. Raphael had never been the most stable of people and I could not begin to imagine the toll this had all taken on his psyche. 

He was sitting on the opposite side of the tiny room, watching me. I sat up slowly, my head pounding. I opened my mouth but suddenly couldn’t find words. What was wrong with him? What had they done to him?

After a few tense seconds of looking each other over, the cloud over him seemed to lift. He gave me a familiar smirk. “’Bout time,” he said. 

And just like that, he seemed like his old self again. “Raph!” Grinning, I scrambled forward on my knees and we hugged. “Can’t believe it’s really you.”

“You find Mikey and Don?” he asked.

“Yeah! They’re home, they’re safe.”

He relaxed and laughed. “Saved the best for last, eh?”

“You know it.” I laughed too. I felt giddy with relief. Maybe I was wrong. He’d be okay once we were out of here and home. This whole thing had been rough for all of us. After a few seconds the shock of finding him began to wear off and I changed gears. “Raph, listen. I’m sorry … about all this.” I looked around the cell with its two entrances, one leading to wherever they’d dragged me in from, the other to the “arena,” where they’d forced Raph to enter the ring. When I’d looked at it from the other side, it reminded me of the doors that open into the matador’s ring; the ones that release the bull. “I never stopped looking for you,” I told him. “We just didn’t know where they’d taken you--”

“Leo,” he said, stopping me, “I know. You don’t gotta explain.” He reached out again and threw an arm around my shoulders, squeezing tight. “It’s really good to see ya, brother.”

“Likewise.” I had to swallow hard, fighting it back. All these weeks I thought the worst, but here he was, a little worse for wear, but still alive. He asked again about the others and so we sat and I recounted the whole story. I told him about Mike’s escape, Don’s bait-and-switch getting in Bishop’s lab and our subsequent infiltration of the insect hive. I related how we almost lost Mike and Don, and how I hadn’t slept a wink in weeks. I told him all about my dealings with Hun, the wild goose chase at Foot HQ and how I’d almost given up hope of ever seeing him again. He couldn’t believe the truth about the “aliens.” I told him that things were already changing for the better on the outside, that their numbers were dwindling by the day and it was only a matter of time before things went back to normal. 

I didn’t hold anything back. I hadn’t actually talked about the whole experience with anyone, and in a way, it felt good to share it. When I finished, he just grunted and smiled. “So ya found us all one by one _and_ stopped the whole invasion. Great. ‘S’not enough I gotta wait for ya to come to the rescue, but you also gotta save the world on the side.” 

I laughed. “Hey. We can’t all be this good.” I rubbed at the back of my head, where a good sized knot had formed. “Of course,” I added, “it wasn’t exactly my plan to get locked up in here.” He looked distressed all of the sudden. Thinking he must have been eager to get out of there, I tried to reassure him. “Hey, don’t sweat it. I had Donnie in my ear, he heard everything. He and Mike are still in recovery, but I’m sure Don’s planning something.” I told him Sensei was there too. I didn’t think it would be long before they attempted to break us out. “We’ll be home before you know it,” I said.

He stared at me for a long second, before dropping his eyes to the floor. Then he said: “I can’t.”

I blinked a few times, thinking that I must have been hit harder than I thought. “You can’t what?”

“I can’t go home.” He recited the words like he’d practiced them. “It’s good to see ya, and I’m really glad Don and Mikey are okay … but when they come, I’m not goin’ with ya.”

I knew it. I knew something was wrong, I could feel it. “Raph, what the hell are you talking about?” 

He began to explain. When the Dragons had first brought him here, naturally he refused to fight for them. He stood in the ring during his first match and used evasive maneuvers only, until the other guy ran out of steam. A simple choke hold after that and the guy went down, easy as pie. Raph said it wasn’t much of a contest. Still, Hun must not have been happy about it. Boring fights didn’t bring in crowds, after all.

Raph wouldn’t look at me while he told me the rest. He said that they gave him an injection. He didn’t know what it was, and at first he didn’t notice anything out of the ordinary. Then, a few days later, he said he “lost it.” He blacked out completely, and when he came to, his opponent looked like he’d gone through a meat grinder. He said after that it happened every time. He couldn’t control it--whenever his adrenaline spiked, he’d go berserk until the other guy was on the ground. Then he’d rage out on the body. And when there was nothing left to pummel, he’d attack the sides of the cage. 

“They told me it’s a parasite,” he said. “They got it in trade from the deal with Bishop, when they gave him Mikey and Don. It does somethin’ to the brain, takes over, whenever it feels threatened.” 

“You’re infected,” I said, barely above a whisper. I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. I thought back to those things Don and I had fought at the hive facility. It couldn’t be the same type of parasite. Hadn’t Don said there were a bunch of known species? Something else came back to me then, something he’d said in there: _“The very definition of a parasite means that the host is slowly destroyed in the process.”_

No. I wasn’t going to accept this. “Well ... then we’ll find a way to get it out of you!” I said. “Donnie will figure something out.”

He shook his head. “Donnie don’t know everything. ‘Sides, it’s too dangerous. Like I said, I don’t got any control over it. I blacked out a couple times in here, just thinking about stuff too hard. Just you bein’ in here is makin’ me nervous.” He looked it. He was picking at the wraps on his knuckles, stained with blood and grime. “I been feelin’ on edge since I saw ya in here. Have to try and not get too uh, _emotional,_ I guess.” He laughed a little, embarrassed. 

“Okay, so … we’ll take you home and we’ll all be _really_ nice to you.” He gave me a dirty look. I tried to level with him. “Raph, listen. I’ve been through hell to find you. I swore to Sensei, to the others, that I would bring you home. This isn’t up for debate. You’re coming back with me, end of story.” 

“No. I’m not.”

No? Okay, now I was getting angry. “Excuse me? You think you’re so good we can’t protect ourselves against you? I know you’ve been winning a lot of fights in here Raph, but you can’t possibly think that our skills compare to a bunch of street punks. ”

“I know what you’re doin’ and it ain’t gonna work,” he said matter-of-factly. “This thing in me, Leo … it doesn’t just make me check out, it makes me stronger. Makes it so I don’t feel tired, I don’t feel pain. I’ve seen the aftermath of what I’ve done. It ain’t natural.” He was sitting cross-legged, his breaths coming evenly. A sub-meditative state. He was trying to stay calm. “You said it yourself, the other two ain’t exactly at peak condition. Whattaya gonna do if I go after one of ‘em? I won’t stop until one of us is dead.”

The way he looked in the cage … I knew he had a point, and I _was_ apprehensive about bringing him back to the lair, in all honesty. But there was no way I was going to leave him here. I couldn’t believe this. How far had I come, how much had I been through to reunite my family, to piece my clan back together--and here was the last piece, right in front of me. All I had to do was bring Raph home. All the weeks spent searching, trying to figure out what happened to him, and could you believe it? The stubborn bull wouldn’t leave. I was not going to stand for this. I decided right then. I was leaving this place and I was taking Raphael with me, even if I had to break his legs and drag him out myself. 

I tried another approach. “You can fight this. You just have remember your training. You can force yourself to stay balanced, no matter the situation. Take it down to the basic functions--breathing, heart, mind. You are the one in control, not that thing in you.”

“You oughta write self-help books.”

“Raph.”

“You’re askin’ me to stay calm. Me.”

“Raph, this isn’t a joke--”

“I’m not jokin’!” His eyes widened suddenly. He placed a hand against the wall and swayed a little, his breaths coming hitched. I stared at him, unbelieving. Was it really that bad? After a few seconds he got himself under control and repeated it. “I’m not jokin’. Leo, please.” He closed his eyes, still struggling to maintain. “You gotta trust me on this one.” 

“Then we’ll just get you out of here! We can put you up somewhere outside the lair. We’ll figure something out from there.” I was pleading with him now. He had to be overreacting. I didn’t believe for a second that he was as dangerous as he was making out. There was no way he’d attack his own family. Right?

“No,” he repeated. “I’ll hurt someone else. Leo, listen to me. I’m messed up. I need to be locked up.” He reached up, pulling at the tails of his mask. “I had a lotta time to think on it. I knew you guys would come eventually. You know there’s no way we’re gettin’ outta here without a fight. The second that happens … nobody around me is safe. You’re gonna have to get the others and just run. Let the Dragons deal with it.”

This was getting more ridiculous by the minute. “You’re out of your mind if you think we’re going to do that.” Exasperated, I paused my argument there, dropping my eyes to his hands. They looked bad, swollen. I slid up closer and grabbed his right, turning it over and inspecting it. I started pulling off the wraps without asking.

“I need those,” he said, but didn’t stop me.

“You don’t need them anymore.” I finished removing the filthy thing and dropped it to the floor. “Can you even move the fingers?” I wouldn’t have guessed he could, with how bruised and damaged it looked.

“Yeah. Like I said, I don’t feel pain when I’m hittin’ ‘em.” I pulled on one of his fingers, moving it. “Ah!” he shouted, giving me an evil look. “I can feel pain now!”

“Sorry.” I started unraveling the other wrap and tried again, a little more subdued now. “You told me once it’s like chewing on glass. Like it was a futile effort. I always pushed you to try harder, to do better. I’ve always thought it was because you just accept this about yourself, and that maybe you didn’t care enough to try and get control. But now I think I see. It’s not acceptance … it’s doubt. 

_“’A mind clouded in doubt imposes false limitations.’_ Do you remember Splinter’s lesson? I wish I had. I have never doubted myself more than I have in these past few weeks. I always thought that I would find strength in the face of any adversity, any challenge, any tragedy. I know you guys don’t like doing the ‘fallen brother’ exercise, but I take it very seriously. I thought it would prepare me better for times like this.”

We were trained to imagine a brother or brothers fallen in battle and to meditate on it. It was a common training technique for soldiers, yet so much more intense in our particular situation. The others I don’t think ever focused as hard as I did (and Mikey straight up refused to do it at all) but I needed to. My role was to look out for the entire team, and it wouldn’t do to lose composure over one when there were two more that could be in trouble.

“I wasn’t prepared. I couldn’t plan attacks without Donnie, I couldn’t get information out of the street punks without you … I lost hope without Mikey around. I made a lot of mistakes. But you know what? Mike and Don pulled through. We stopped the invasion. I found you. And do you know why?”

“Why?”

“Because I never gave up. I kept chewing until my mouth was scar tissue. I kept forcing each jagged piece down. And I would have kept doing it even if it killed me. Because I never accepted the alternative, Raph. I didn’t stay put in some damn cell. I fought until the end, because you guys were counting on me.” I zeroed in on him. “And now we’re counting on you, to make the team whole again.”

He stared at me for a few seconds. I could see the gears turning. Finally he said, “You really think Donnie might be able to get this thing outta me?”

I smiled. “He single-handedly figured out how to take down a government-perpetrated biogenetic war disguised as an alien invasion. What do you think?”

He gave me a serious look. “You wanna know what I think?”

I swallowed, my throat suddenly dry. “What?” 

“I think you need to keep a closer eye on him. I heard him on the phone trying to buy some uranium … plutonium … somethin’. Either he’s buildin’ a time machine or an atom bomb--either way, I don’t wanna be within a hundred miles from it.” He smiled.

I clapped him on the arm and laughed. “You don’t even want to know the things I discovered poking around inside his lab.”

As if he could somehow hear us (and really I wouldn’t have been surprised if he could) a loud bang sounded from somewhere close by. We heard voices and men running a few seconds later, followed by gunfire. 

“What do you know,” I said. “I think that’s our mad scientist now.” Raph didn’t look good, so I went into action. “Okay, here’s what we’ll do. Turn your mask around and blind yourself.” He did. “Concentrate. Meditate. We will protect you--I’ll help lead you out. Block everything. No matter what you hear, just focus inwards.”

He nodded, breathing deep. Good. I didn’t know if this was going to work but worst case scenario, I felt confident we’d at least escape the Dragons. This little setup of theirs was no match for all of us and I could already hear Donnie going crazy with the firecrackers out there (which actually made me realize he probably gave a few to Mikey ... which in turn got me worried all over again). Even if Raph lost control, despite what he said, I was sure between all of us we could subdue him. 

I listened at one door and then the other, trying to figure out what was happening. There was commotion on both sides though I picked up a lot more from the cage area. Every few minutes I would hear another explosion coming from outside. I waited, anxious, wondering if Don and Mike were healed enough to be pulling this off. 

There were gunshots at the back door, the one opposite the cage area and leading to where I assumed was the back of the club. I didn’t know for sure, since I’d been mostly unconscious when they dragged me in. There was a slot at the bottom of it, where they must have slid in food and water. The slot opened suddenly and to my relief, the hand on it was green. “Leo? Raph?”

“Donnie! Yeah, it’s us, we’re both here!”

“Okay, hang on. I’m going to get this door open.” I heard metal parts moving, followed by a _click._ The door swung open and he waved us out. “C’mon, we have to move.” He paused, looking at Raph a second. “What’s the matter with him?”

“I’ll explain later,” I said. I grabbed Raph by the wrist and pulled him out with me. “He can’t fight though, we’ve got to cover him.”

He nodded, saving the questions for now. We hurried down through the dark hallway and towards the back exit, stepping over a couple of Dragons on the way. I had to hand it to them, the coast looked clear. I could still hear bombs going off outside, and could only assume that the others (Splinter, I hoped) were out there creating the distraction for us. Don pushed the back door open a crack, peering out. Suddenly, the sidewalk at his feet blew to pieces. He fell back inside, smashing into me. He picked himself up in a huff, threw the door open wide and stood there with his palms up, looking skyward. A second later I heard Mikey’s voice, distant. “Sorry.”

“You gave explosives to Mikey?” 

“Look we’re a little short on help,” he said, checking the alley behind. “It was that or put him in my place, so forgive me for not sending the guy on crutches to the rescue.” He rolled his eyes. 

“What about Sensei?”

“He’s with Mike. Mikey’s tossing frags as a distraction, Sensei’s picking them off as they exit, and I snuck in virtually unnoticed. Which was good,” he added, breathing heavily, “because I only had to take down a few. I’m about spent.”

“Hm. Good plan,” I said.

He grinned at me. “Thanks. I thought so.”

Outside, Don went to the nearest fire escape and tensed, readying his jump. “Wait.” I said.

He looked around nervously. “Leo we really should get moving. The place is still full of them.” To prove his point, another grenade went off to the right of us, followed by shouts. 

I looked at Raph. I didn’t want to break him out of his trance until we were away from the action. “The rooftops are not an option. I need to get Raph underground. We’ll head that direction,” I said, nodding towards the east. “Get the others and meet up with us.”

Don didn’t seem happy about it, but he didn’t protest either. He made his leap and kept going, climbing up the building, though a little slower than normal. I pulled Raph ahead, pausing by the corner to check our surroundings. I could hear cars in that direction and it seemed like they were getting closer. I saw the first of their headlights and ducked back into the alley. I headed in the other direction, hoping it would be better on that end. It wasn’t. There were a bunch of Dragons exiting a van there. We were trapped. I looked back at the door to the club. I really didn’t want to go back inside, but I was running out of options. I started pulling Raph in that direction.

“Don’t worry dudes, the cavalry has arrived!”

I turned around and there were my brothers, Mike and Don, grinning at us. “Good thing we kept an eye on you guys,” Don said. “Come on, I think this way will be easier.” We followed Don to the side of the alley where I’d seen the van. “Mikey?” Don said. “You’re on deck.”

Mike ran up, still favoring his leg, but I was impressed with how he was maintaining. He started giggling. “Get ready for Mikey’s patented three-grenade fastball. This one’s gonna be a sinker guys. Seriously I dunno why you guys never let me handle the ‘nades before, I’m like a natural and--”

“Mikey just throw it!” Don said.

He pulled three pins at once, lobbed them around the corner and just had time to say, “Oops, I think that one went a little wide …”

There was a massive explosion as what I assumed used to be the Dragons’ van blew sky high. We ducked against the wall as car parts went flying by. There was no time to waste now, every Dragon in a fifty mile radius would be on us in a heartbeat. I spared a look at Raph, hoping the noise wouldn’t break him out of his state. He didn’t look too good. I could see his breathing was getting more erratic. 

“Dude what’s up with Raph?” Suddenly Mikey was there. He slapped Raph on the chest. “Raph! What’s goin’ on man? Are you blind? Why you wearing your mask like that?”

“Mikey!” I snapped at him. “Don’t! Don’t mess with Raph right now.” He must’ve sensed that something was seriously wrong, because he complied, looking like a dog with its tail between his legs. I felt bad, but there wasn’t time to explain. They were on us. “Come on!” I yelled, dragging Raphael with me.

We hoofed it out of the alley and down the street, opposite the flaming van, just as gunshots started to ring out, bullets ricocheting off the walls next to us. Don urged Mike to empty the grenade pack behind us and he did, tossing them to clear our escape. I managed a quick look back and saw arrows flying as well, picking Dragons off one by one from above. We ran as fast as we could until we’d put some distance between ourselves and the club. Don found an abandoned shop and ushered us in. Inside, we crouched and waited. I could still hear men on the streets but it was distant. Occasionally a car would drive by, but we were well hidden and I didn’t think we were seen coming in. We were safe. A few minutes later I heard a noise behind me. Startled, I turned to see my father standing there. I smiled when I saw him. No matter how good a ninja I thought I was, I didn’t think I’d ever be able to pick up on Splinter when he was in full stealth mode. 

I looked around at them. Mikey, his adrenaline wearing off, was holding his leg and wincing at the pain. He was leaning against Don, who was having trouble sitting upright without swaying from the exhaustion. Raph … still gone. I reached up and eased his mask off. “Raph?” I said, looking at his pupils. “It’s okay now. You can come back down.” His eyes seemed to focus. He crossed his legs immediately and placed his hands on his knees, the same position he’d held when I was locked in the room with him. “You okay?” I asked him.

He took a few even breaths. “Yeah. Yeah, I think so.”

The others were watching us like we were people they’d never seen before. I started to explain. I told them everything, starting with when I entered the Dragon’s club until they’d shown up to rescue us, only skimming the part where I’d actually seen Raph lose his mind. I didn’t want to describe it in detail, and especially not with him sitting right there. When I was finished, Don said he would start going through the files he had from Bishop’s lab. At Raphael’s request, we were going to take him to April’s place for now. I told the others I would escort him there myself and we’d take it from there.

Mikey was staring, wide-eyed and curious, like he was looking at some exotic animal at the zoo. “Sooo … are you gonna Hulk out if I give you a hug?” he asked Raph.

Raph sighed. He raised his hands and motioned him forward. “No. Bring it in.”

Mike leaped up in obvious pain, but rushed Raphael nonetheless. I put an arm out to slow him down. “Gently!” I said.

Mike squeezed him. “Dude, I almost died! It was gnarly.”

“I heard. Glad you pulled through, little brother.”

“Me too. Donnie ate it, too. But his wasn’t so bad.” He looked at Don, a huge grin plastered all over his face. “It was like, what? A little scratch compared to mine. I mean really, it’s amazing I came out for this one. I should probably take it easy for a while right? I’m thinking a few months, minimum.” Now he was looking at me with the same grin. I wasn’t buying it. “Anyways. Are you really all psycho now? Like more than normal? How can you tell the difference?”

“Michelangelo,” Splinter warned him, beating me to the punch.

“Oh right. I’m not supposed to mess with ya. Maaaan … this is seriously gonna be the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do.” He looked it, too. “Donnie! Hurry up and cure him already, jeez!”

“Oh sure,” Don muttered. “No pressure. Like it’s that simple to remove a parasitic organism embedded deep within the brain.” I gave him a look of death. “I mean, of course it is! Heh. I’ve got all the docs on what they did, it will be a piece of cake.”

For all their skills and talents, I’d swear sometimes I was leading around a bunch of children instead of fearsome ninjas. Nevertheless, and despite my concern over Raphael, it felt good to be here, now. For this brief moment, hiding in a gutted out bodega on the west bank, we were together at last. All of us, Sensei too, for the first time in far too long. I finally felt like we were complete. 

It wouldn’t last.


	7. Chapter 7

I convinced Raph to let me stay the rest of the night at April’s with him. Maybe it was his condition or the fact that we’d only just gotten him back after weeks of absence, but I didn’t feel good about leaving him alone there. He was too tired to argue. The sun was just starting to come up when we arrived and so we spent most of the next day sleeping through until late afternoon. It was the most consecutive hours of sleep I’d had since my brothers disappeared. It felt good, but I was still resting uneasily. 

When I awoke, I couldn’t find him in the apartment. I saw the window at the fire escape open a crack and followed through, finding him there on the roof. I watched him for a minute. He was sitting with his knees pulled up to his chest, looking out over the neighborhood, the tails of his mask trailing to one side in the wind. It reminded me of when we were kids. He always sat in that same position, staring off, whenever he’d gotten in trouble for something. 

I came over and sat beside him. “Hey,” I said. The sun was low in the sky behind us, just starting to dip behind the buildings, on its way to setting. “How are you doing?” I was afraid I already knew the answer.

“Not so good,” he said. “Came out here to get some fresh air. I been locked up so long I almost forgot what the place looked like.” He exhaled, his whole body seeming to shudder with it. “You gotta tie me up,” he said. “Somethin’. I never gone more than two days, I think, without it happenin’. I can feel it now.” He drew his knees in tighter. “I’m not gonna be able to keep it under control much longer, Leo.”

“Okay. Just take it easy.” I laid a hand on his shell for a second, before I stood and pulled my phone. “I’m going to call Donnie. Let’s see what he thinks.”

I paced the roof as we talked, putting a little distance between myself and Raph. I told Don what was going on and asked if he had anything that could help, suggesting maybe that we could sedate him. 

“I’m not sure about giving him anything until I’m through researching what this is. I think a better suggestion would be to restrain him for now,” he said.

“You mean lock him up?” I lowered my voice. “Don, we just busted him out of captivity. I’d rather not.”

“I didn’t necessarily mean cage him. I do have a straightjacket here at the lair.”

I asked him like he was in need of one himself. “Why? Why do you have a straightjacket?” I was genuinely curious. 

“I-I picked one up during my last hospital visit. I was getting supplies and I thought it might come in handy.” I didn’t respond. “Okay, what if we need to interrogate someone? It’s good to have a reliable set of restraints.” I continued the silent treatment. “Fine, you got me. Just don’t tell Mikey, I’ve got him thinking it will make a good Halloween costume.”

I sighed into the phone. “Just don’t tie him up and forget him somewhere. We’ll never hear the end of it.” 

Don showed less than an hour later with the white, buckled coat in hand. Just looking at it made my heart sink. This felt wrong. Raphael got a lot of flak for being the unstable one, sometimes jokingly, sometimes not, but I knew it got it him. He’d struggled with these demons all his life, his biggest fear that he would go too far and do something he’d regret. Putting him in a straightjacket just seemed like rock bottom for him, whether it was his fault or not. And I was tightening the straps.

When it was done, I looked at him. “Better?” I asked. He nodded, not wanting to look us in the eye. I don’t think I’d ever felt worse for my brother than I did in that moment. He looked so defeated. 

“Now you guys need to get outta here,” he said.

Don and I shared a worried look. “We’re not going to just leave you here tied up,” I said. “Don, you head home. Keep looking for a cure. I’ll stay here with him.”

Raph started to protest. “Leo, this jacket ain’t gonna stop me from tryin’. You gotta get outta sight.” He thought for a second. “The storeroom, downstairs. It’s got a padlock on it.”

“Raph, no,” I said. “This will be good enough--”

“It won’t be good enough!” He started panting all of the sudden, unsteady on his feet. “Look, I need to get in there now. Just promise me you’ll lock the door behind.” He started for the stairs. 

We had no choice. We followed him down, through the shop and into the corner, where the small, claustrophobic storage room was located. He waited in front of the door, rocking back and forth, looking like someone who just needed to use the restroom. I wished that’s all it had been.

“Open it!” I did as he asked, too surprised by the way he was acting to do anything else. Inside, he turned to me. “Now lock it,” he growled. “I don’t care what you hear, _do not open this door.”_ He turned his back to me then, facing the opposite wall. I watched him just a second longer, listening as his breaths became more ragged, his entire body heaving with them. I was suddenly reminded again of the horror movies Mikey liked so much. I felt like I was watching him change, ready to transform into some monstrous beast. As it turned out, that analogy wasn’t too far off the mark.

I shut the door with a bang and clicked the padlock in place just as he began screaming. A series of growls and guttural sounds came from the room, mixed with banging, smashing--he was thrashing around in there it sounded like. Soon the door began to shake on its frame as he threw his weight against it again and again. I just stood and stared. I was in total shock.

So was Donnie, apparently. I’d forgotten all about him. When I turned, he was standing a few feet behind me, his hand pressed over his mouth. His expression perfectly summed up my own thoughts. I was just glad Mikey wasn’t here to witness this. Splinter too.

“Don?” I said, barely able to get the words out. “Go on back to the lair.”

He looked at me, nodding. Without a word, he placed a phone, a new one, meant for Raph no doubt, on the counter. He hurried out after that.

**\----------------------------------**

It was two hours before Raphael calmed down. I sat next to the door, my shell pressed up against the wall for the duration. Two hours, I listened to my brother act like a violent lunatic, screaming in unrecognizable fury, using his body to attack the walls around him. It was indescribable. I had seen Raph at his worst, at his angriest, his most maniacal; I had witnessed him go berserk both on and off the battlefield. Nothing compared to this. As hard as the revelation was, I could see he was right. I couldn’t let him return to the lair. Not like this. 

When he’d been quiet for a while, I called out his name. There was no response. I tried a few times, unsure of what I should do. Afraid he might have hurt himself, I decided to open the door.

He was lying on his side in the corner. I couldn’t see his face. I said his name again. No response.

This is not a thing I admit to often, but I’ll say it--I was scared. I was afraid at any moment he might just leap up and attack, that this was some sort of ploy to get me to lower my guard. The last thing I wanted to do was engage him in that state and I didn’t know if I could properly defend myself without seriously hurting him too. All of those things were true. All of them were somewhere in my head. 

None of them mattered. I fell to my knees beside him and grabbed him. His eyes were open, but unfocused. I tried to roll him over onto his back. I said his name again and again.

He blinked a few times, slow and confused, but started to come around. I sat him up. He looked the room over, zeroing in on me, and then on the open door behind me. “What happened?” he asked. I knew what he was really asking.

“Everything’s fine,” I told him. “I locked you in here, like you said. It’s over now.”

He relaxed. I wanted to undo his restraints but he wouldn’t allow it. I wanted to tell him how impractical this was, because he was going to be in pain with his arms wrapped up like that soon enough (if he wasn’t already), not to mention the fact that I wasn’t going to hand feed him, let alone tend to his other needs. I saved it for now. I put both hands on his shoulders, facing him. “Are you hurt?” 

“’M’fine.”

I tried to choose my words carefully. “Are you sure? There was … a lot of noise in here.” As in, you were screaming like a banshee and trying to bore a hole in the wall with your body, I thought. It was good Raph had no recollection of these episodes, I also thought.

“Yeah.” He turned his head to one side, cracking his neck. “Sore, but I’m fine.”

He wouldn’t look at me. “Raph, listen. Donnie’s working on this, okay? He’s going to figure out something.” 

He huffed. “And what if he doesn’t?” Finally, he looked me in the eye. “You gonna keep doin’ this forever? Tyin’ me up, lockin’ me up? Listenin’ while I flip my lid in here, and hope I don’t break out? Forget it, Leo. I ain’t doin’ this.” He sighed. “Shoulda stayed with the Dragons,” he mumbled. “’Least you guys wouldn’t have had to deal with it.”

“Don’t say that,” I told him. I shook him a little, forcing him to look at me again. “Whatever it takes, we’re going to get you out of this, Raph. I swear it.” It was little reassurance. I could see my words were having no effect. Raphael was a born pessimist and the most difficult soldier when it came to keeping morale high. I found it hard to motivate him on a normal day. I wish I could have said differently, but it came as no surprise. He prided himself on being the strongest. To be reduced to such a state now was a personal hell. Don had to come to examine him and I of course stayed to keep an eye on him, but even long after he’d calmed down, he wouldn’t even allow Mikey or Splinter to visit. I tried one more time, using what Mikey calls my ‘leader voice.’ “Raphael. No matter how long it takes to find a cure, you know we won’t give up.” 

He nodded and rolled his eyes a little, looking uncomfortable. Okay, enough pep talk. I stood to exit, getting ready to head upstairs for some supplies. Raph was exhausted after his episode, and so I’d agreed to bring down some bedding for him, since he didn’t want to leave the storeroom. Before I went out the door, he stopped me.

“Wait,” he said. He was sitting with his back to me, talking over his shoulder. I stopped, putting a hand against the doorjamb. “Thanks for stayin’ here with me,” he said. He craned his neck around to look at me. It hit me all over again, how much this reminded me of us being kids, mainly because he had that same look, like he was in trouble for something. I was always the one to go find him and talk him down. That was something that never really changed, though instead of searching the sewer tunnels, these days I have to search the whole damn city to find him. But this wasn’t his fault. If anything, it was mine. I led them into that warehouse in the first place, missing the obvious signs of a trap. I’d made things right with Donnie and Mike. I had to do the same for him. 

I gave him a nod, and left.

**\----------------------------------**

Hours later I got a call from Don. He had information, but wanted to come in person to talk. When he arrived, he brought us some supplies. Just a few days’ worth, I noticed. I hoped that was a good sign.

We talked in the shop, where I’d taken up watch. Raph was snoring lightly inside the storeroom, but I’d convinced him to let me leave the door open for now. I agreed to lock him in at night when I was asleep, but I didn’t want to imprison him in there any more than we had to. As soon as Don arrived, he looked in on Raph, watching him for a few seconds. 

He stepped away and waved me over. He kept his voice low. “I think I have it narrowed down,” he said. “I believe he’s infected with a mutated strain of _Dicrocoelium dendriticum,_ a parasitic fluke known to control the minds of ants. It’s sensitive to the host’s fear response. If it thinks the host is being threatened in any way, it triggers hormones to start flooding the temporal lobe, making everything go haywire.” 

"Haywire" was a good word for it. “Fear is what does it? What happened to him earlier, then?”

“My guess is he was probably stressed out by being here, around us. Ironically, worrying about it was the very thing that caused it to happen.” He explained. “Fear manifests in many ways. He doesn’t have to be terrified,” Don said. “Anything the slightest bit upsetting could set him off.”

“The slightest bit upsetting,” I said.

“Uh-huh.”

“And this thing is in Raphael.”

“Um … yeah, I can see where this is a problem ...”

“You think?” I sighed. “So how do we cure him?”

“Well … that’s the tricky part. It’s embedded in his brain. Surgery is out of the question. Antibiotics have been proven unsuccessful, and drug therapy as a whole, counterintuitive. It will fight anything, or rather, it will cause the host to fight anything threatening it. According to the case studies, he’ll go berserk if we try giving him anything, and then his body will just reject it. This parasite is really something else, very resilient, it’s impressive--”

“Don.”

“Uh, right. Sorry. Well, there is one other way.”

He paused there. And here came another one of Don’s answers I knew I wasn’t going to like. “Go on …” I said.

“This parasite is especially susceptible to cold. We could try freezing it out of him.”

I was right again. I already didn’t like the sound of this. I especially didn’t like that he’d paused the conversation there again. “And how would we do that, exactly?”

“By lowering Raph’s temperature. If we put him in a moderate to severe hypothermic state for a short period of time, it could kill the parasite.”

“So what will that do to Raph?”

He looked away. “It … could kill him, in the process. Our bodies are not fully warm- or cold-blooded. We’re hybrids, we share characteristics of both. It’s hard to say what extreme temperatures will do, and it makes it really hard to pinpoint the exact temperature and length of time needed. I’ve never actually tested this sort of thing on us.” 

I wasn’t hearing this. “Well forget it. You’re not using Raph as an experiment. There has to be another way.”

Don didn’t look hopeful. “Other than trying to cut it out of him, I don’t see any other option.” He turned his look to the storeroom. “Like it or not Leo, this is all we’ve got.”

**\----------------------------------**

We stayed at April’s for two more days. Don agreed to do more research into the matter, to see if he could nail down the exact formula to safely attempt what he’d proposed. He still wanted to go ahead with the hypothermia treatment, but I was extremely wary. I suggested we give it a few more days, let him crunch his numbers, and then I would consider it. Eventually I knew I would have no choice. Like most parasites, Don stated that this one would eventually kill its host when it was ready to move on. When I asked Don how long we had, he said he didn’t have a clue.

Raph and I spent a lot of the time meditating together. I told him stories about my time searching for them, staying positive, and I found it was much easier to laugh about it all now in retrospect. I convinced him to come out of the storeroom for a few hours and watch a movie, though I made sure the choice in cinema was a mild one. Not hard, given that April’s movie collection was full of romantic fluff. I put on a particularly bad one and we laughed all the way through it. Despite how things began, being there at April’s wasn’t too bad, considering; I might even describe it as fun. If it hadn’t been for the fact that he was strapped into the white coat, it really didn’t feel any different from any other time hanging out together. 

We were in the kitchen, eating, when I heard the noise.

Raph heard it too. It was coming from downstairs, in the shop. I pulled my phone, checking to see if I’d missed a call from Don or something, but the screen was clear. I stood up. “Stay here,” I told him. 

I crept down the steps without a sound, listening. I heard something fall over and crash. Someone or something was definitely moving around down there. I pulled one sword and continued to the first landing. Right away I could see the culprits: ants, about four or five of them. There was no way they could have come in from the street, since I had helped board up the place myself and knew it was secure. I glanced around and saw that the door to the basement entrance (one that connected to the sewers for our convenience) was ajar. Bingo. I slid along the wall without them noticing and closed the door first, locking it before more could enter. The noise of the lock alerted them to my position, but I wasn’t worried. I pulled my other sword and moved forward to attack. 

The ants were large, about knee-high and aggressive, but they were no match for me. I speared the first two through, pinning them to the floor. The third I kicked away, retracted my right sword and lopped the head off of the fourth. Too easy. I sliced the fifth one clean in two. I moved forward to finish off the one I’d kicked; that’s when I made a fatal error. Even after months of fighting these things, knowing that their vitals were not always easy to find, I’d let overconfidence in the situation cloud my judgment once again. One of the ants I’d impaled initially was still alive and when I turned my back on it, its pincers snapped together, taking a small chunk out of my calf. 

If I just hadn’t dropped my guard, if I hadn’t let it surprise me--later I would play these thoughts over in my head like a guilty record. It was the noise I made, crying out when it bit me, that brought Raph downstairs to see what was going on. Just as I finished them off, my attention snapped to another sound: heavy breathing. 

At first I didn’t understand. I’d killed all of them, there was no threat. I looked around, to see if there was another I’d missed. That’s when it hit me.

Bugs. Raph had an irrational fear of bugs. 

“Raph? Raph, it’s okay! Look, I took care of it, there’s nothing to worry about--”

I didn’t even get to finish my sentence. He rushed me, screaming, without warning.

**\----------------------------------**

I just had time to sheath my swords and get my hands up to block before he tackled me. We hit the floor hard, my shell taking the impact, my spine rattling. His speed was hard to match. I got my fists up over my head in time as he pummeled me, but it was all I could do. His attacks were coming too fast. I managed to get a knee up and unbalance him, which gave me just enough time before his next punch. I hooked my arm around the back of his neck and got him in a hold. I shoved upwards with every bit of strength, flipping him off of me. I scrambled to get to my feet.

“Raph, stop! It’s me! _Raphael!”_

Nothing, no recollection whatsoever. He flew at me again, growling and drooling like a beast, completely out of his mind. If only we hadn’t been eating at the time, he would have at least been in the straightjacket, I thought. Yet another instance of turtle luck at work. I braced myself for his next attack, unsure of what my options were here. He tried to tackle me again but I dodged in time, sweeping a roundhouse into his neck and stunning him. I looked up at the storeroom. I had to get him inside and lock him up, it was the only way. I went on the defensive, trying to lure him in the direction of the room. I got as far as the shop’s counter before he landed a crushing blow to my midsection, causing me to double over. He followed up with a knee to my face. I stumbled backwards, into the counter, amazed at what was happening. I couldn’t believe how impossibly strong he was. And to think I’d been worried about hurting _him._

He bull rushed me again and got me by the throat before I could recover. He dug his thumbs into my windpipe, crushing it, squeezing so hard my neck was in danger of snapping. I locked my arms around his and pulled outwards, straining, needing air. I got a foot up on his abdomen and shoved outwards, breaking his hold with such force I felt the glass of the counter crack inwards at my back. I ducked just as he swung, his strike going wide above my head. 

I’ve sparred with Raph more times than I can even begin to count, and on the rare occasion, we’ve come to blows in a non-training situation, during one of his fits of rage. In both instances, I never felt like I was fighting for my life. No matter how angry Raph gets, he never takes it to that level; he’ll leave me nursing bruises for weeks, but he’s never gone too far. This was completely different, and I realized it immediately. Part of me wanted to believe that there was something in him aware enough not to kill me, but it became apparent right away that that little theory was wishful thinking at best. I needed to defend with everything I had. 

“Raph, get a grip! It’s me, Leo! I’m your brother!”

Still nothing; he didn’t even acknowledge that I’d spoken at all. My back still pressed against the counter, I laid my palms on the top of it for leverage and lifted both feet off the ground, snapping my heels into him as hard as I could, trying desperately to put some distance between us. I knocked him back and flipped backwards myself, until I was behind the counter. As soon as I landed, he was there on the other side. I looked at him in shock, in disbelief at his speed. He surprised me with a jab to the eye, which I blocked, but it directed my attention away from his other hand, which went to the back of my head. Before I could stop him, he grabbed the knot in my mask and pulled downwards with terrible force, shoving my head towards the glass top of the counter.

The glass, its integrity already cracked and weakened, completely gave way. My face smashed through it and I was momentarily blinded by pain. I staggered backwards, trying to get my wits about me. I heard a scream and blinked, struggling to focus. He dove over the counter to get to me but I dodged, skidding backwards in the direction of my destination. Okay, I was close. I just had to lead him a little farther. 

He crouched and pounced, landing on me in an instant. We rolled a couple of times until I could see the open door to the storeroom on my right. Still dazed, I headbutted him and reached my arms around, locking him down tight to my chest in another hold. He thrashed, but I held on. I took the opportunity to turn my head and spit, before I choked on the blood that had been filling up my mouth. With a grunt I slid backwards, dragging him with me. When I was sure I was close enough, I bucked, rolling backwards on my shell, and tossed him over my head and into the room behind.

I shot to my feet and slammed the door tight. Finally, I’d gotten him inside. I grabbed the padlock with shaky hands, slipping the metal through the hook. All I had to do was click it into place.

I never made it. The door exploded outwards with impossible force, stripping the lock clean from the wall. The door connected with my body, hitting my face and chest, sending me down onto my shell and causing me to skid several feet. He stood in the doorway just a second, crazed, eyes wide and unseeing, his head twitching to one side like he was under the remote control of some mad, schizophrenic master. He looked at me and bared his teeth, spit and blood mixing, running down his chin. 

“Raph stop! Please!” 

He answered me by ripping the register from the counter and chucking it at me. I dodged it and made it to my feet, but there was no time to block the next hit. He threw an uppercut into my jaw so hard, I was sure something in there was broken. He followed it up by gripping the side of my face and shoving me backwards. I lost balance, falling into a shelf full of curios. The shelf toppled with me on it, glass and ceramics shattering all around. I tried to get up, ignoring the pain of my palms grinding into the jagged pieces. 

I didn’t end up on the losing end of a fight often, but I was familiar with it enough to recognize when I was in real trouble. Raph was relentless in his attacks. He wasn’t tiring and he didn’t even react to my hits. I didn’t know what to do. He told me he wouldn’t stop, not until one of us was dead. I thought he was exaggerating. Desperate, I looked for an exit. Maybe if I could get myself out of sight, if he had nothing left to attack, he might return to his old self. I reached out for the nearest item, a segment from one of the ants I’d cut down earlier (and was I ever regretting that now). I tossed it at Raph, hitting him square in the chest with it, its juices leaving a wet, orange stain on him. He paused, stopping in his tracks and stared at it. If there was any question that some semblance of Raphael was still in there, that was the proof. I brought my leg around while he was confused and swept him off his feet. I hoped it would give me enough time. 

I ran for the basement door. I fumbled with the latch, cursing myself for having locked it earlier. I could hear him coming up behind me. I thought if I could just get it open, maybe I could lose him in the tunnels below. I could go into stealth mode and watch him, follow him, until he calmed down. That was the plan I had going, at least.

I never got the chance to enact it. I pulled the handle, swinging the door wide. The next thing I knew I was hit from behind with the force of a freight train. The two of us fell together, a mess of arms and legs and body parts, down the entire flight of stone steps into the dark below. Somewhere I was vaguely aware that the maniac was still trying to punch me, even on the way down. 

I landed sideways, my neck twisted against the wall and for a second I was sure I’d broken it. Only once had I ever been beat up this bad in my life, and some part of me felt equally humbled and ashamed by it. Still, it made sense, in a way. Certainly none of our usual enemies were able to put up such a fight. Only my brothers were as skilled as I was and none of them would ever fight me to the death like this. Until now.

I knew I wouldn’t make it to the tunnels. I crawled to where he was, my body slippery with blood and sweat. He was momentarily stunned, on his hands and knees and shaking his head. I couldn’t waste the opportunity. I latched onto his back, wrapping my arms around him and locked my wrist in my hand across his chest. His arms trapped at his sides, he couldn’t free them to attack. He screamed like a demon possessed, whipping from side to side and it was everything I could do to hold on.

“Raph … get a hold of yourself! You can … do this!” I grunted with the strain. I had to hang onto him, there was no other choice. He bucked and thrashed like crazy and I felt something pop in my shoulder. It hurt like fire, but I wouldn’t let go. He shoved against me, sliding backwards until we were against the wall. There, he rocked backwards, smashing me into it again and again. I struggled to remain conscious. I kept trying to reason with him.

“Remember when you almost killed Mikey! You left the lair for a week … I found you by the docks, getting ready to … leave us for good. I knew you were sorry … I know you still are to this day!” He bashed me backwards again, so hard I could not keep my head from slamming off the brick. I was fading fast. “I know you don’t want to do this! And I … forgive you.”

I reached my limit. The world lurched forward in tunnel vision and my body gave out. My arms dropped, limp by my sides. I had just enough awareness to look up, ready to meet the final blow. My last thought was a mix of two awful realizations; one that I was about to die, and two, that Raph was going to come to, knowing that he was the one responsible.

The last blow never came. I saw his silhouette, standing over me with the light from the shop pouring down in. I couldn’t see his features. I thought I heard him say something, before I finally collapsed on the basement floor, unconscious.

_“Leo?”_

**\----------------------------------**

“Whoa, Leo … are you alright?” I woke to Michelangelo shaking me. He helped me sit up. I pressed a hand to my head and looked at the blood on it. “Oh no … dude hold on, lemme get Donnie.”

He shouted for our medic and Don came down the stairs, his first aid kit slung over his shoulder, prepared as usual, though I had no idea how he knew to find me here like this. They helped me up the stairs and into better lighting, where Don began treating my injuries. I asked them about Raph, but they said he wasn’t there.

“We have to find him,” I said. “He must’ve run off.” I knew I was hurt, but I didn’t think anything was broken and I was eager to go after Raph. The city was still full of bugs. I didn’t want to think of the trouble Raph was getting into out there, or if he was even himself at all. He seemed like he was under control when he left, but I wasn’t sure. He didn’t finish me off, so I assumed he must’ve come back down in the end. 

“You’re not going anywhere until I plug these holes.” Don was threading a needle, so I knew stitches were soon to follow. I started to relay the story. I told them everything I could remember. For some reason, Mike and Don kept looking at each other. I supposed they were surprised at what I had to say. I could hardly believe Raph was in such a bad state myself. 

“Mikey? Hold him.” Mike did as he said, holding onto my right side and leaning his weight into me. I wasn’t exactly sure what they were doing, but before I could ask, Don grabbed my left arm near the top and wrenched it inwards. I yelled out as pain shot through that whole side. “Sorry Leo,” Don said. “The shoulder was dislocated. It should be fine now. Don’t move for a second.” He tied a sling and slipped it over my head, securing my arm inside. I looked at it, then at all the tape and bandages littering my body. Maybe I was worse off than I thought. It didn’t matter. I just wanted to get to Raph before it was too late. I urged Don to hurry, so we could begin the search.

“And do what?” he asked. “Wander around the streets? Ask around if anyone’s seen him?” He shook his head, thinking. “Mikey and I will search around for clues. You stay here.” He looked at me strangely. “On second thought, Mike--you stay here with him, I’ll search.”

“Do I have to keep him awake?” Mike asked.

Don shook his head. “That’s a myth. If he wants to sleep, let him. Just call me if anything out of the ordinary happens.”

Mike laughed. “Think we’re waaaay past that point already.”

Firstly, I didn’t appreciate them talking about me like I wasn’t there. Secondly, I felt functional and thought we should all be out looking for Raph. I tried to argue the point with Don, but he ignored me and left. I couldn’t believe it. Raphael was the priority here, and I was in charge--if I felt good enough to hit the streets, then I would do so. Don was good at playing doctor, but that didn’t give him the right to order me around. 

As soon as he left, I turned to Mike. “What’s with him? And why are you asking him about me sleeping?”

Mike had a strange look, somewhere between concerned and amused. “You have a wicked concussion, Leo. Worse than I’ve ever seen.”

I did feel a little fuzzy, but I didn’t think it was serious. Certainly not noticeable. “That’s ridiculous. It’s not that bad.”

Mike snorted in laughter. “Dude. You are _not_ serious.” He looked at me, grinning. “Well for one, you were repeating yourself like crazy. When you were telling us what happened? You said one thing like, three times. Plus you’re slurring your words bad. I was wondering if you got into Casey’s stash or something.”

“Really?” I was skeptical. If it had been only Mike saying this I wouldn’t have believed it, but that didn’t account for Don’s sudden attitude.

He nodded. “It was kinda scary, and kinda funny at the same time. You were so out of it you didn’t even notice Don pulling all the glass out of you.” He nodded to a pile of bloody shards in a bowl on the floor. “He thinks there’s probably a few more in there, but you weren’t exactly with it enough to tell us where it hurt, you know?”

I raised my good arm and looked at it, working the fingers on that hand. “Everything hurts good enough now,” I said.

“No doubt.” Mike was looking at me in awe. “I’ve never seen you so busted up. Can’t believe Raph did this to you. I thought you were like, better than him … what gives?”

I gave him a sour look. “It was the parasite, okay? You didn’t see him. He was … not himself.” I changed the subject. “How did you guys find me, anyways?”

“Raph called us. He said you were hurt bad and Donnie needed to come, but he didn’t say why. Donnie kinda put it together though, while we were coming over.”

“Wait--Raph has a phone? We can track him through it!”

Mike shook his head. “Donnie already tried that. He said his phone’s off and he pulled the battery.” He shrugged. “Just like he always does, when he doesn’t want us to find him.” He looked down, picking at the pieces of a broken vase on the floor. “Donnie wouldn’t let me come here, to visit. I wanted to see you guys--well, Raph mostly. I only really got to see him for a minute, when we were running from the Dragons.”

I sighed. “He didn’t want you to see him like this, Mikey.” I looked around the room at the damage. April wasn’t going to be thrilled, but it was hardly intentional. “Trust me, it’s better you didn’t.” 

Truer words were never spoken. I wished I could erase the memory. It was like something else was attacking me, some mindless, savage creature wearing my brother’s skin. Even the physically repulsive things we faced in the hive weren’t as unnerving. Maybe I should have listened to Raph after all. He was apprehensive about being out of the restraints. And now he was missing again. Even though he was infected, I still felt good about having him here, back with us. Just knowing where he was, was enough. I wasn’t the only one feeling the rift in our family dynamic, though. I hated to see Mikey so down. I slid over and wrapped my good arm around his shoulders. 

“Remember the days when we used to just fight _Warriors_ -style street punks and evil ninjas? Maybe an alien race or two?” He sighed. “I just want things to go back to normal.” 

I smiled a little. “So do I little brother,” I said. “So do I.”

**\----------------------------------**

Don returned a couple of hours later empty-handed, finding no evidence of Raphael or where he might have gone. We tried to make guesses, but nothing seemed right. He knew how to hide from us. If Raph didn’t want to be found, then we would never find him. I called Sensei and April, telling them to be on the lookout just in case. I didn’t really think he’d go to either of those places, especially in his condition, but it was worth a try. We three decided to camp out at April’s place for the time being, in case he decided to come back. We kept our phones close.

We bedded down for the remainder of the night, Mikey and I on the couches, Don curled up on some bedding on the floor. With my delirium wearing off, the pain had begun to set in and I found sleep impossible with my screaming shoulder and a hundred other cuts and contusions. A reminder to never push Raph too far, I guess. I wondered where he was, right that second. Would he stay below? Maybe hole up in an abandoned shop or apartment somewhere? There were plenty of those to hide in these days. I was driving myself crazy thinking about it. I knew he felt responsible for what happened. Sensei used to tell me that no one was harder on Raph, than Raph. It took me years to fully understand, but when he was off touring the city, moping after another blowout, he wasn’t off hating us. He was off hating himself. 

Maybe I always knew. Wasn’t that really why I always went to go find him, to bring him back home? I’d give him some time to calm down, and then figure he’d punished himself enough before starting the search. This time was different, though. This wasn’t his fault. I thought I’d convinced him to stick this out, to fight it. I thought he’d let us help him find a solution. Instead he just ran away again. And this time I didn’t know where to begin looking for him. 

I lay there in the dark of April’s apartment, listening to Mikey mumble in his sleep, picking up on Don snoring ever so lightly, and wondering if this was really it. Our team, our clan … our brotherhood, broken for good. None of those things existed without Raphael. Pure exhaustion was forcing my eyes closed but I did not want sleep. I wanted to be out there, running rooftops until my feet bled, looking for him, the missing piece of our clan. 

It wasn’t until I felt the vibration across my shell that I realized I actually had fallen asleep. My hand went to the offending device on instinct, before I was fully aware. Only when my fingers touched the phone did it hit me. 

I snapped awake and looked at it. A message, coming in. It was from Raph.

“Guys, get up!”

**\----------------------------------**

_heard what donnie said about freezing the thing out_

_locked myself in a walk in freezer, grocery, 7th and Clarkson_

_leo i’m sorry_

I dialed the number back immediately, but he didn’t answer. I left a message instead, calling him an idiot first, then telling him to hold on, and that we were coming. I told him I was fine and none of this was his fault. I told him I was sorry too.

We headed for the window. Don was looking into the map on his phone. “Best route is going to take us twenty minutes, minimum,” he said. He didn’t sound happy. “He could survive the temperature, but depending on the model of freezer, it might not be ventilated. In which case he’s going to run out of air, quick. Especially if he loses control again--exerting himself will use up his oxygen twice as fast.”

“Then there’s no time to lose,” I said. I told Don to take lead. He grabbed a couple of blankets from the couch on the way out, tossing them to Mike to carry. We took to the rooftops, moving faster than we ever had. Mike was still walking with a limp but you wouldn’t know it now; Don, still weak from the assault on his nervous system, the same. Me, just hours after the second worst beating I’d ever taken in my life, using everything I had to move forward. Pain was an afterthought. 

Even going at top speed, it seemed to take forever. Finally, Don shouted, pointing out the place he thought it was. It was a medium-sized grocery, brightly colored on the outside and lit up from within. Not all that surprising, since a lot of the neighborhoods still had power. The government had declared a state of emergency and forced the power companies to keep supplying the area, and so it was common to find many shops still looking operational, even though there was no one inside to operate them. We dropped to street level and headed in.

We rushed through the aisles and into the back of the store. “Over here!” I heard Don shout. We followed him back through a door marked "Employees Only." There, against the far wall, was the door to a large walk-in freezer. Don was already there. He pulled the handle and swung the door wide.

Raphael was inside, lying on the floor. He wasn’t moving. 

I was getting flashbacks; of finding Mike unconscious under the dock, of coming back from defeating the mantis queen and thinking Don was gone. Some broken logic told me this would be the same. We were going to grab him and I would find out that he was okay, that it only _looked_ like he was dead. 

I yelled at Mikey to hold the door. Don and I ran inside and grabbed each of his arms, dragging him out. He was limp in our hands and frigid to the touch. I tried calling his name. I noticed offhand that there were boxes and foodstuffs strewn all over and I remembered what Don said about him using too much oxygen in that state. I wasn’t putting the pieces together yet. It wasn’t making sense.

We laid him out on the floor of the grocery and tossed the blankets onto him. I kept shaking him and calling his name. Don had his wrist, checking for signs of life. After a few tense seconds, I looked up and Donnie was shaking his head. No pulse.

He slid over quickly and threw and arm out, pushing us off. The next thing I knew, Don was clasping his hands together over Raphael’s chest, getting ready to administer CPR. I couldn’t believe this was happening. We were too late. Raph was … gone.

Donnie, stone faced, situated his fingers and reared up. Before he even pressed down on the first pump, Raphael opened his eyes and gasped. 

“Ah!” Don yelled in fright. 

“Raph!” I said. Mike and I moved in closer. “Raph are you okay?”

Don was holding his chest and panting. “Hibernating,” he said between breaths, “you were hibernating. I get it now.” 

Raphael looked around at us, drowsy, taking it in. We helped him sit up. “What took ya so long?” It came out more like: _whaatook ya solong,_ he was slurring so much. 

We grabbed the blankets and put them around his shoulders, trying to warm him up. Without a word I pushed my head into his shoulder, wrapping my one good arm around him. Mikey followed suit from the other side, and Don from the back, effectively giving Mr. Hardass Raphael the biggest group hug of his life.

He squirmed. “Jeez you guys … you think I’d died or somethin’.” He chuckled.

We waited a little while, letting Raph thaw out in the blankets before attempting to head back. Now that I knew he was alive and well, I proceeded to tell him how reckless and idiotic this had been. I told him he should have let Don do this in a controlled environment, where we could have kept an eye on him. I told him all the things he already knew, even though I knew it wouldn’t stop him from doing the next reckless thing.

“We don’t even know if it worked,” I said. “For all we know, the parasite is still in you.” Everyone was silent for a second. Then, Mikey piped up.

“Oh! I got it.” Mike reached back into one of his pouches and brought out a closed hand. He held it under Raphael’s nose. “Heeey Raphie. Guess what I got,” he said.

“What?” Raph was understandably suspicious.

Mike opened his hand slowly. The second Raph’s eyes went to it, Mike brought his other hand around lightning fast, striking Raph across the face with a hard slap. Raphael bristled immediately and lunged for him, too slow from the cold to make contact. I held him back from pursuing it further.

“See?” Mikey said, looking at Don and I. “He’s pissed, but not crazy. Well, no crazier than normal.” I felt Raph lunge again and I pulled him back a second time.

“It’s triggered by fear Mikey, not anger,” Don said. “That might have been good enough to trigger it, but I think a more reliable test is in order.”

We returned to April’s and once again (and for what I hoped was the last time) we strapped Raphael back into his asylum gear. Inside the shop, I picked up pieces of the ant and held them close, testing him. “Anything?” I asked. He shook his head. 

Mikey took it a step further (as usual) and picked up the head of another, shoving it into Raph’s face. In a funny voice, he said, “Don’t you love us Raph? Aren’t we beautiful? Give us a kiss.” He pushed it towards Raph’s mouth, making smooching noises. Raphael stumbled backwards, disgusted and spitting a few of his more colorful words, all aimed at Mike.

I let it go on for a second or two, before stepping in. “Alright Mikey, I think he’s in the clear. Congratulations, Raph. Your incredibly stupid stunt paid off.” I had to smile. I was just too relieved. And well … I couldn’t deny that what he did worked. But I did think he got pretty lucky. 

I moved behind Raph and made to undo his straps. “Hold up a second,” Mike said. I looked up and saw him with his phone out, holding it high. “I gotta get a picture of this.”

“Mikey, don’t!” Raph yelled. “I swear t’god Mikey, if you take that picture I will make you eat your own shell.”

We all froze, eyes on Mikey. He just stared at Raph for a second, phone still in hand. “Click,” he said out loud. 

“Leo. Get me outta this friggin’ coat.”

Mike’s fate was sealed. Don turned to him and said, “I wouldn’t waste this head start, if I were you.”

Grinning like a madman, Mikey ran for the basement exit. “See you guys back at the lair!” he yelled. “I’ll send you each a copy!”

**\----------------------------------**

I just wanted sleep, in the end. Everyone was safe and accounted for. I told them to stay put, I said it was my turn to disappear, and they laughed. They understood, though. I went up my room and sunk into the bed like I’d never seen one before, and there I slept for nearly twenty-four hours straight. I dreamed calm dreams, and was content.

When I woke up, Splinter called me into the dojo. I entered and kneeled, waiting to be addressed. 

“Leonardo. You have shown that you can withstand even the most challenging of situations, both in the physical and mental disciplines. Your loyalty to your brothers and this clan is unprecedented. In all of my years, I have never encountered another warrior so devoted to his duty. I am proud, to call you my son.”

He gestured for me to stand, and I did. We embraced and he said, “Thank you, for bringing my sons back to me.” He turned his back to me and I thought I would be dismissed. Instead, he paused, speaking to me again over his shoulder. “It was very … interesting, watching you at work. I regret now that I do not often see the four of you apply your skills to the world above.” He was talking about our shakedown of the Dragon gang. It wasn’t often Splinter would join us topside. Most of our interactions with him involved training, and so I was of the same mind; getting to see my master apply his skills in a combat situation was something of a treat.

“Thank you, Sensei. I don’t know if I could say it was fun exactly, but it was … refreshing, to partner up with you. We make a very good team, I think.”

“Indeed.” He smiled. “Go now. Your brothers are eager to show their appreciation as well. Be … patient with them.”

I wasn’t sure exactly what that meant, but I was about to find out.

**\----------------------------------**

Still a bit groggy from my extended nap, I shuffled towards to kitchen, eager to fulfill another basic need. That’s when all the noise started to happen. Barely had I set foot inside the kitchen when everyone came in, grabbing things out of the fridge and pulling out cookware. I tried to protest, but I already knew what was going on. Someone grabbed me by the shoulders and forced me down into a chair. The smell of breakfast foods soon filled the air.

“C’mon, you guys don’t have to do this,” I said.

“We know,” Mike answered. “But we do it just for you, Leo. Did you know I had to infiltrate a secret grocery lab just to carry this bacon out of there? It was pretty intense. Don’t even get me started on the information the eggs were holding out on.” He giggled like a maniac, cracking shells into a pan. I watched as he flicked his hand a few times, trying to free it from goo, and then finally turned to wipe it off on the shell of an unsuspecting Raphael. I shook my head. 

A large plate of greasy breakfast foods eventually made its way in front of me and even though it wasn’t my preferred cuisine, I could appreciate the effort that went into it. I was actually a little embarrassed. “This is really great guys, thank you,” I said. They all pulled their own chairs and joined me. We sat for a couple of hours there, sipping tea and coffee, laughing, talking, and catching up. 

“So … what’s the plan today?” Mike asked. “I’m feeling pretty good, I could probably keep up with whatever you guys wanna do.”

“Still a lotta bugs out there,” Raph suggested. “I got word from Angel, she’s back in town. She’s holed up just outside Chinatown. She said they’re pourin’ out into the streets like the sewers are on fire. I don’t exactly like the idea of ‘em taking up residence in our neck of the woods. Maybe we oughta take care of it.”

“I don’t know if that’s such a good idea,” Don said. He turned his laptop around for all of us to see. _Bugs Squashed!_ the headline read. He pressed the ‘play’ button on the video broadcast. “As you can see, the military has taken care of the alien threat, destroyed the hives, and saved humanity,” he said, the sarcasm heavy in his voice. I wasn’t fazed. We were used to letting others take credit--it’s what being a ninja was all about. I could tell it always bothered Don though, I think because he sometimes felt his contributions in general were underappreciated. I made a mental note, reminding myself to lay on a little more praise the next time he was showing off one of his gadgets. “The soldiers are pushing them back,” he continued. “That’s why they’re heading in this direction. But, they’ve got the full military right on their heels. It’s getting pretty hot out there. I think we should lay low for a while, just to be safe.”

I watched the screen for a minute, but my decision had already been made. “Don’s right. It’s just too much gunfire for us to get involved. We’ll keep a close eye on the situation. I’m sure there’s going to be plenty of leftovers underground.” I looked over at Raph, who was shifting in his seat. He was never happy at being grounded, but I had a feeling he wouldn’t put up too much of a fight this time. “Besides,” I said to him, “you’re the only one in any shape to fight. If you think I’m going to sign off on any solo action right now, then you’re ready to go back into that white coat.”

He rolled his eyes. Mike snorted and ran with it, stating that he was going to have that picture of Raph he’d taken framed, that he was going wallpaper his room with it, and that he had to remember to look into getting it blown up to poster size. Mikey was really enjoying himself and would have kept going if his chair hadn’t mysteriously toppled backwards, taking him with it. 

“I still owe a visit to Hun,” I said, leaning over and speaking to Raph. “He might not have orchestrated this little fiasco, but he did double-cross us. We can’t go letting him think we’re such an easy target.” I stretched, thinking on it. “I’m sure he’ll be expecting us, now that he knows we’ve got you back. He’s probably surrounded himself with quite a few men …”

Raph gave me a sly smile. “Sounds like you’re gonna need some back up.”

“You know it.” I raised my fist and bumped it with his. “Next week,” I added. “This week … we’re on vacation.” I looked over to see Master Splinter in the doorway, watching, sipping from a small cup. He smiled at me and moved on.

You don’t know what you’ve got until it’s gone. I thought that saying didn’t apply to me. I also know that even the wisest of men tends to find himself humbled when he least suspects it. Maybe I didn’t fully appreciate these small things; these moments in-between, the mundane, the everyday. The life of a ninja is one filled with conflict by default. The life of a mutant ninja, even more so. Against rival clans and gangs, mutated monsters and humans with agendas, we often concentrated our efforts to protecting the ones who could not do so for themselves, all while staying hidden from those we sought to protect. It was a noble life and a unique one, to say the least. It was easy to appreciate those aspects of it, because I poured the entirety my focus into making my team better and stronger in order to deal with these challenges. 

I leaned back in my chair and watched them. Living together, maintaining peace and camaraderie between us--this was a challenge too. Whether it was trying to entertain Mikey, suffering through Don’s long explanations, or dealing with Raph’s volatile nature, my role as leader extended far beyond that of the battlefield. But it wasn’t all effort on my part. I was, and am, honored to be in the position to lead them, for we each have our roles. When I was stressed, Mike would make me laugh. When I was injured, Don was there to dress the wound. When I was in danger, Raph had my back. When they were gone, I could not focus on anything except getting them back. Without them, I was lost.

As I looked across our small kitchen, reflecting on the events of the last few weeks, I realized how much I did indeed appreciate every moment with them, no matter how insignificant it seemed. These were my brothers, my clan, and so they would be until we reached the end of our days. Just as I once took the fall for a broken vase, today I would gladly fall in battle to protect any one of their lives. There are times when they annoy me, frustrate me, defy my orders and test the very limits of my patience. They are a team of sophomoric, reckless, stubborn individuals. 

And I wouldn’t have it any other way.

 

**\-----------------END-----------------**

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. Leo’s first beatdown--referencing the Mirage Leonardo micro-series (revisited in the first movie with Raph in place of Leo, and again in the 2k3 episode, _The Shredder Strikes Back)._
> 
> 2\. Raph almost kills Mikey in training--referencing the Mirage Raphael micro-series (revisited in the 2k3 episode _Meet Casey Jones)._


End file.
